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OTHER    STORIES 


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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


'93/ 


^Aa 


Main 


Street, 


I^IELD,  M*S*.^ 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  HILL 

LIBRARY 


PURCHASED  ON  THE 

DR.  AND  MRS. 

JOSEPH  EZEKIEL  POGUE 

ENDOWMENT  FIND 


"'COME    AND   GIVE   ME   YOUR   HAND,   MY   DEAR   BOY 


[/•„.,,  18 


JHE  MIDNIGHT  WARNING 

and  Other  Stories.  By 
Edwaed  H.  House.  With 
Twenty  Illustrations  *   # 


NEW    YORK 

HARPER   &   BROTHERS,  FRANKLIN  SQUARE 

189  2 


Copyright,  1892,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 
All  rights  reserved. 


TO 

THOMAS  D.  LOWTHER 

THE    GUIDE    OF   MY   OWN   LITERARY   YOUTH 

I   DEDICATE   THESE    STORIES 

WRITTEN   FOR  THE   YOUTH    OF   A    LATER   GENERATION 

E.  H.  H. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2010  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/midnightwarningoOOhous 


CONTENTS 


page 

THE   MIDNIGHT  WARNING 1 

GRACIE'S   GODSON 107 

NATTY   BARTON'S   MAGIC       ITS 

OUR   UGLY   IDOL 23C 

TRY   AGAIN   TRESCOTT'S   WAGER 260 

A    FRIEND    IN    NEED 2T7 

APPENDIX 294 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  'COME  AND  GIVE  ME  YOUR  HAND,  MY  DEAR 

BOY'" Frontisjihee 

"THE  ENTERTAINMENT  WAS  IN  VIGOROUS  OP- 
ERATION " Faces  page  110 

' '  she  added,  in  an  undertone,  '  you  can 

see  what  misery  she  is  in ' " .     .     .     .      "       "     118 

"  'good-bye,  gracie,'  he  repeated"  .     .     .      "        "    146 

"in  an  instant  he  slipped  through  the 

window" "       "    154 

"'oh,  papa,  take  care;  its  robin,'  plead- 
ed gracie " .    ' "       "    160 

"sent  him  forth  into  tiie  darkness"     .      "       "    168 

"'why,  it's  my  roi5in!'  cried  gracie  ".     .      "       "    174 

"PRETENDED  to  pick   some  candies  from 

her  basket" "       "     194 

"HE   moved    his    finger    up    and   down 

three  times" "       "    198 

"she  lald  down  her  knife  and  fork,  and 

ROSE  FROM  nER  SEAT" "  "      208 

"THE  SPECTATORS  WERE  WILD  WITH  DE- 
LIGHT"     "        "     216 

adela's  DOVE  TRICK "         "     218 

"'I  WILL  ALWAYS  STAY  WITH  YOU,'  DE- 
CLARED  THE   CHILD  " "  "      232 

"  'THAT     IS    THE     YOUNG     GENTLEMAN,     AND 

THIS  IT  IS  I  HAVE  TO   TELL '  "    ....        "  "      242 


X  ILLUSTRATIONS 

"MY  HEART  WENT  TO  MY  MOUTII — I  HARDLY 

dared  TO  stir  " Faces  page  252 

"  'i'll  take  that  bet,  jim  potter'*'    .     .      "       *"    270 
"  tne  new  york  lad  flourished  his  weap- 
on in  the  air  "  "       "    274 

"a  few  minutes  later  mr.  moreau  was 

seated  at  florence's  left  side"  .     .      "       "    282 
"master  jackson  led  nis  sister  to  her 

PLACE" "         "289 


THE  MIDNIGHT  WARNING 
a  Soutbem  Cale  of  jfourtb  of  5ulg  in  Mar  Ctme 


It  was  on  the  afternoon  of  the  Fourth  of  July, 
1861,  that  my  father  resolved  to  throw  away  all 
reserve,  and  confide  to  me,  his  eldest  son,  the 
difficulties  and  dangers  of  his  position,  the  pur- 
poses he  had  formed  for  immediate  action,  and 
the  hopes  which  he  cherished  for  the  future. 

I  was  in  a  state  of  such  bewilderment  that  I 
could  scarcely  control  my  thoughts.  Only  a  few 
hours  before  a  strange  and  startling  event  had 
occurred,  for  which  I  was  totally  unprepared, 
and  which  had  gone  far  to  unsettle  many  of  my 
boyish  ideas  of  right  and  justice.  It  was  not 
easy  for  me,  at  my  age,  to  recover  from  a  shock 
so  suddenly  and  so  unexpectedly  received. 

At  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning  or  there- 
about, while   I   was   working  in  my   mother's 


2  THE   MIDNIGHT    WAKNING 

flower-garden  beneath  our  parlor  windows,  my 
attention  had  been  attracted  by  the  approach  of 
a  body  of  horsemen  rapidly  advancing  from  the 
eastward.  I  gave  them  only  a  casual  glance, 
having  not  the  slightest  anticipation  that  they 
intended  to  favor  us  with  a  call.  Visitors  to  our 
house  had  not  been  numerous  of  late,  although 
there  had  been  a  time,  not  very  remote,  when 
the  planters  of  the  neighborhood  wTere  never 
tired  of  accepting  and  enjoying  my  father's  hos- 
pitality. I  had  no  suspicion  that  there  were  es- 
pecial reasons  for  their  gradual  falling  off,  and 
the  disturbed  condition  of  the  district  was  suffi- 
cient, it  seemed  to  me,  to  account  for  all  social 
irregularities ;  but  I  was  soon  to  be  more  fully 
enlightened,  and  in  a  Avay  as  humiliating  as  it 
was  alarming. 

Instead  of  passing  our  gate,  the  cavalcade 
turned  in  and  rode  swiftly  to  the  front  door, 
which  stood  open  at  all  seasons. 

"  Come  in,  gentlemen,"  my  father  called  out, 
cheerfully,  from  the  porch.  "Ptolemy  will  see 
to  your  horses.  Call  the  boys,  Ptol ;  look 
sharp." 

The  old  negro  was  quickly  at  hand  with  a 
number  of  assistants,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
unlooked-for  guests,  of  whom  there  were  not  less 
than  half  a  dozen,  were  seated  in  the  parlor, 

RBO 
NcU 


THE    MIDNIGHT    WAENING  3 

while  their  host  was  setting  the  usual  refresh- 
ment on  a  table. 

"  Help  yourselves,  gentlemen,"  I  heard  him 
say,  with  his  accustomed  cordiality ;  but  to  my 
surprise  the  invitation  met  with  no  response. 
After  a  moment,  the  awkward  silence  was  bro- 
ken by  a  voice  which  I  recognized  as  that  of 
Judge  Huntoon,  a  well-known  resident  of  Helena, 
whose  pride  in  his  reputation  as  an  orator  of 
the  most  approved  South-western  pattern  was  a 
matter  of  common  notoriety. 

"  We  are  here,  Colonel  Claiborne,"  he  began, 
stiffly  and  pompously,  "to  perform  an  unpleasant 
office.  Our  fellow -citizens  of  Phillips  County 
have  delegated  us  to  wait  on  you  and  express 
the  general  regret  at  your  failure  to  co-operate 
in  their  measures  for  the  welfare  of  our  govern- 
ment and  country." 

"It  is  true,  judge,"  my  father  replied,  with 
characteristic  gentleness,  "  that  I  have  given  no 
substantial  proof  of  fidelity  to  my  country  in 
this  unhappy  crisis,  but  it  is  not  lack  of  devotion 
that  restrains  me.  You  and  most  of  my  neigh- 
bors are  aware  that  I  am  bound  to  my  home  by 
duties  which  I  have  no  right  to  disregard." 

"  We  fully  appreciate  the  claims  of  your  fam- 
ily," responded  Judge  Huntoon,  gradually  be- 
coming grandiloquent,  as  was  his  fashion  when 


4  THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING 

addressing  even  a  small  audience.  "  You  have, 
sir,  our  deepest  sympathy  in  the  afflictions 
which  have  befallen  you.  It  is  not  required  by 
your  friends  that  you  deprive  those  Avho  are 
dearest  to  you  of  your  companionship  and  care, 
but  we  justly  demand  that  the  moral  support  of 
so  distinguished  a  citizen  of  Arkansas  shall  no 
longer  be  denied  to  us.  You  have  had  many  op- 
portunities, since  the  State  proclaimed  its  eman- 
cipation from  Northern  bondage,  of  declaring 
your  loyal  adherence  to  the  Confederacy.  You 
have  availed  yourself  of  none  of  these,  and  your 
omission  to  do  so  has  provoked  criticism.  We 
now  call  upon  you  to  make  open  affirmation  of 
your  principles,  as  becomes  a  patriot  and  a  wor- 
thy son  of  the  South." 

"  You  have  chosen  a  singular  day  for  an  errand 
of  this  description,"  my  father  remarked,  as  calm- 
ly as  before. 

"  "We  have  chosen  it  deliberately.  It  seemed 
fitting  that  you  should  be  accorded  the  privilege 
of  announcing  your  allegiance  on  the  chief  an- 
niversary of  that  nation  to  which  we  once  be- 
longed, but  which  we  have  been  compelled  to  re- 
nounce and  abjure." 

"There  can  be  no  better  occasion  for  avow- 
ing my  allegiance — my  undying  allegiance,"  said 
my  father,  in  a  tone  that  singularly  affected  me. 


THE    MIDNIGHT    WARNING  5 

"  That  ought  to  be  sufficient,  gentlemen,"  ex- 
claimed Judge  Huntoon.  "I  congratulate  you, 
Colonel  Claiborne,  on  the  fortunate  result  of  this 
interview.  And  now,  I  think,  we  may  join  in 
drinking  prosperity  to  the  righteous  cause,  and 
confusion  to  its  enemies." 

"  I  could  do  that  with  all  my  heart  and  soul," 
said  my  father ;  "  but  I  feel  that  there  should  be 
a  clearer  understanding  between  us,  and — " 

"  Right  you  are,  sir,"  broke  in  a  third  party 
to  the  conversation,  whom  I  knew  by  his  pecul- 
iarly broad  plantation  accent  to  be  Major  Brin- 
dal,  a  prominent  local  politician  and  one  of  the 
fiercest  advocates  of  secession.  "  The  judge  will 
excuse  me  if  I  say  this  matter  needs  a  good  deal 
more  clearing  up  than  it's  likely  to  get  by  his 
delicate  handling.  What  the  people  of  Phillips 
County  expect,  Colonel  Claiborne,  is  that  you'll 
come  out  of  your  shell — clean  out,  once  and  for 
all.  If  you  can't  take  the  field,  as  most  of  us 
hope  to  do,  you  can  at  least  put  yourself  square 
on  the  record,  and  let  us  know  that  you're  a 
stanch  friend  of  the  new  flag.  There's  been  too 
much  delay  already.  We  want  the  truth,  the 
whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth  ;  and  we 
want  it  now !" 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  Major  Brindal.  you 
shall  have  it,"  returned  my  father ;  "  and  I  may 


6  THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

add  that  you,  or  others,  could  have  had  it  at  any 
time  during  the  past  six  months,  if  you  had  seen 
fit  to  ask  for  it.  My  old  friend  the  judge,  like 
all  men  of  his  standing,  needs  no  assurance  that 
I  yield  nothing  to  your  importunity  which  I 
would  not  more  readily  have  conceded  to  his 
courtesy.  It  is  not  my  habit  to  force  others  to 
listen  to  my  convictions,  but  that  does  not  mean 
that  I  have  none,  or  that  I  desire  to  conceal 
them.  You  have  come  here  to  satisfy  yourself 
and  the  community  as  to  my  loyalty  and  patri- 
otism. Take  away  no  doubt  with  you,  gentle- 
men, concerning  my  sentiments.  I  would  lay 
down  my  life,  I  would  forfeit  everything  but 
honor,  for  the  country  into  which  I  was  born 
thirty-nine  years  ago ;  by  which  I  was  trained 
to  manhood,  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson  Eiver, 
a  score  of  years  later ;  for  which  I  fought  in 
Mexico,  to  the  best  of  my  strength,  in  forty- 
eight;  and  under  whose  mild  and  tolerant  gov- 
ernment I  have  since  dwelt  in  happiness  and 
peace  until  the  outbreak  of  this  causeless  war- 
fare. That  country,  you  well  know,  is  the  United 
States  of  America.  I  acknowledge  no  other, 
and  while  Heaven  permits  me  to  draw  the  breath 
of  life  none  shall  take  its  place  in  my  affection, 
and  no  power  shall  cause  my  faith  and  trust  in 
it  to  falter." 


THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING  7 

I  was  almost  paralyzed  with  amazement,  and, 
I  will  frankly  admit,  with  terror  as  well,  as  I 
listened  to  these  Avords.  Up  to  that  moment,  I 
had  not  dreamed  that  my  father's  opinions  were 
in  any  serious  degree  opposed  to  those  of  the 
majority — I  may  say  the  almost  unanimous  ma- 
jority—of our  section.  I  knew  he  had  been  a 
firm  Union  man  in  past  years,  but  it  never  oc- 
curred to  me  that  he  would  venture,  or  even  de- 
sire, to  dissociate  himself  from  the  great  move- 
ment in  which,  I  fancied,  every  Southern-born 
American  was  bound  to  take  part.  This  seemed 
so  much  a  matter  of  course  that  I  had  thought 
it  wholly  unnecessary  to  question  him  upon  the 
subject ;  and  his  habitual  repugnance  to  political 
discussion  accounted,  in  a  good  measure,  for  the 
silence  he  had  maintained  in  the  early  stages  of 
the  Rebellion. 

Knowing  the  temper  of  the  neighborhood,  and 
the  ungovernable  fury  which  possessed  many  of 
the  popular  leaders,  my  first  apprehension  was 
for  my  father's  personal  safety.  I  leaped  up  to 
the  window  beneath  which  I  had  been  standine1, 
and  climbed  into  the  parlor,  determined  to  hold 
myself  ready  for  any  emergency.  In  the  ex- 
citement that  prevailed,  my  entrance  was  unno- 
ticed. The  visitors  had  sprung  to  their  feet,  and 
were  talking  so  violently  that  no  one  of  them 


8  THE    MIDNIGHT    WARNING 

could  understand  the  other.  All  were  gesticu- 
lating wildly  around  the  tranquil  figure  which 
stood  unmoved  amid  the  clamor,  in  the  centre  of 
the  room. 

"  I  told  you  how  it  would  be,  gentlemen," 
shouted  Major  Brindal,  who  was  the  first  to  gain 
a  hearing.  "This  crazy  abolitionist  will  be  let- 
ting his  niggers  loose  upon  us,  if  we  give  him  the 
chance." 

"  That  is  no  part  of  my  duty,"  said  my  father, 
smiling  faintly,  as  if  amused  at  the  major's  bois- 
terous demonstration.  "  The  servants  are  in  no 
fit  condition  to  receive  their  freedom.  I  wish 
they  were,  for  it  will  come  to  them  only  too 
soon." 

"Colonel  Claiborne,"  the  major  screamed,  "you 
speak  like  a  madman !" 

"I  speak  without  violence,  sir,  and  without  for- 
getting that  there  are  sick  and  suffering  wom- 
en in  the  house.  Unless  you  can  moderate  your 
tone  I  shall  hold  no  further  parley  with  you." 

"  The  colonel  is  right,"  said  Judge  Huntoon, 
with  ponderous  formality.  "  This  is  not  the 
place  for  heated  argument.  But  the  exigencies 
of  the  public  service — " 

"  Allow  me,  judge,"  interrupted  my  father ; 
"now  that  you, tell  me  I  am  an  object  of  un- 
friendly scrutiny,  I  am  entirely  willing  to  meet 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  9 

my  fellow-citizens  at  any  time — this  evening,  if 
you  like,  in  Helena  Court-house — and  define  my 
position  in  the  clearest  possible  manner.  That 
will  probably  be  better  than  to  continue  what 
might  become  an  angry  disputation  under  my 
own  roof." 

"  It  seems  to  me,  however,"  said  the  fire-eating 
major,  "  that  proper  precautions  should  be  ob- 
served." 

The  sheriff  of  the  county  was  one  of  the  party 
of  inquisition,  and  at  this  point  he  thought  it 
proper  to  interfere. 

'-  No  precautions  are  necessary,"  he  asserted. 
"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Major  Brindal. 
The  colonel's  word  is  a  sufficient  guaranty  for 
his  appearance,  and  for  the  fulfilment  of  his 
promise.  I  fervently  trust  that  in  the  interval 
he  will  convince  himself  of  the  expediency  of 
modif}ang  the  dangerous  doctrines  he  has  im- 
prudently avowed." 

Five  minutes  later  my  father  and  I  were  left 
alone. 

"  Say  nothing  to  your  mother  about  this  dis- 
agreeable scene,"  he  warned  me,  "  unless  you  are 
directly  questioned.  Leave  me  for  an  hour,  Lio- 
nel, and  then  come  to  me  in  the  library." 

The  caution  was  scarcely  needed.  I  knew  how 
important  it  was  to  keep  my  mother  free  from 


10  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

agitation.  She  had  lain  for  months,  hovering  be- 
tween life  and  death,  the  victim  of  a  frightful 
steamboat  disaster  on  the  Mississippi.  My  grand- 
mother had  been  terribly  injured  by  the  same 
explosion,  and  my  grandfather  and  one  of  my 
sisters  had  been  killed  outright.  Our  home  was 
filled  with  hopeless  grief  and  anguish,  for  we  had 
learned  that  neither  mother  nor  grandmother 
could  ever  recover,  though  the  fatal  result  might 
be  long  delayed. 


II 

At  the  appointed  time  I  joined  my  father  in 
what  we  called  the  library,  but  which  was  in  fact 
rather  a  business  office  than  a  place  for  studious 
retirement.  I  saw  at  a  glance  that  a  change  had 
been  made  in  the  disposition  of  its  few  familiar 
decorations.  Over  an  engraved  portrait  of  Wash- 
ington, always  the  most  conspicuous  object  in  the 
room,  was  draped  a  silken  flag  of  the  Union, 
which  had  been  given  to  my  father  by  his  young 
bride  when  he  started  southward  with  his  regi- 
ment, in  forty -eight,  and  ever  since  carefully 
preserved,  though  rarely  exhibited,  even  to  mem- 
bers of  the  household.  A  likeness  of  Jeffer- 
son Davis,  under  whose  immediate  command  my 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  H 

father  had  served  in  Mexico,  which  had  long  held 
a  prominent  position,  was  now  displaced  and  de- 
posited on  the  floor,  the  face  turned  to  the  wall. 
Upon  a  cushion,  in  a  recess,  the  family  Bible 
had  always  rested,  but  I  observed  that  another 
book,  of  small  size,  which  I  did  not  remember, 
had  been  laid  beside  it. 

"  You  know,  Lionel,"  said  my  father,  "  that  I 
have  no  fondness  for  meaningless  shows.  But  I 
wish  to  impress  you,  on  this  "day  of  noble  memo- 
ries, with  the  sacredness  of  two  objects,  one  of 
which  is  the  emblem  of  my  political  faith,  and 
the  other  the  foundation  of  my  political  convic- 
tions. I  fear  that  I  have  never  made  you  com- 
prehend what  this  flag  means  to  me ;  and  I 
am  sure  I  have  too  long  neglected  to  guide 
you  to  a  proper  understanding  of  the  priceless 
legacy  left  us  by  those  who  framed  our  govern- 
ment. I  have  been  to  blame,  but  from  this  time 
forth  it  shall  be  my  chief  duty  to  repair  the 
fault," 

"  I  had  no  suspicion  that  your  feeling  was  so 
strong,  sir." 

"  I  wished  your  boyhood  to  pass  without  the 
anxieties  which  have  beset  me  in  recent  years. 
But  I  should  have  seen  how  impossible  it  is  even 
for  the  young  to  escape  the  evil  influences  of 
these  davs.    I  trust  no  harm  has  come  from  mv 


12  THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING 

delay.  You  have  not  allowed  yourself  to  be 
misled  by  the  follies  of  our  neighbors  ?" 

"  I  did  not  imagine  that  you  were  against 
them,  sir.  I  thought  you  were  perhaps  indif- 
ferent ;  nothing  more." 

"  If  your  mother  did  not  need  me  every  day 
and  hour  I  should  now  be  far  away  from  this 
spot.  Nothing  but  her  grievous  strait  could  keep 
me  from  offering  my  service  where  it  is  due." 

"  But,  father,  you'  cannot  live  in  peace  with 
the  people  hereabout  after  what  you  have  said 
to-day." 

"  I  could  not  live  in  peace  with  myself  if  I  con- 
tinued to  conceal  the  truth.  I  am  not  sorry  the 
occasion  came.  I  looked  for  it  sooner,  for  I  gave 
good  cause  for  distrust  by  refusing,  last  month, 
to  join  in  the  celebration  of  that  wretched  melee 
which  our  friends  persist  in  calling  the  glorious 
triumph  at  Manassas.  Since  I  have  to  take  a 
stand  in  opposition  to  my  old  associates,  there 
cannot  be  a  better  day  than  this  for  doing  it." 

""Will  you  really  go  to  Helena  Court-house, 
this  evening,  and  defy  them  ?" 

"  I  shall  go  to  declare  my  position,  that  is  all." 

"  It  will  be  the  same  thing  to  them.  You  will 
take  me  with  you,  father?" 

"  Not  for  the  world.  Think  of  your  mother, 
if—" 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  13 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  nor  was  it 
necessary.  I  understood  him  well  enough.  I 
knew  that  he  risked  his  life  in  venturing  among 
the  desperate  men  he  had  pledged  himself  to 
meet,  not  in  fellowship,  but  as  an  enemy  to  the 
cause  they  worshipped.  I  knew,  also,  that  noth- 
ing would  turn  him  from  a  purpose  to  which  he 
had  set  his  mind,  and  that,  although  he  might  go 
to  his  death,  he  would  go  without  shrinking. 
My  heart  was  heavy  as  I  listened  to  his  instruc- 
tions for  my  future  conduct  in  the  event  of 
calamity  to  him.  But  I  strove  not  to  add  to  his 
tribulation  by  showing  the  dread  which  nearly 
overcame  me,  and  before  the  afternoon  was 
ended  I  had  gathered  from  the  example  of  his 
splendid  spirit  a  courage  of  which  I  had  never 
before  been  conscious.  I  felt,  indeed,  child  as  I 
was  in  years,  that  this  Fourth  of  July  must  be 
the  birthday  of  my  own  manhood. 

He  went  to  Helena,  and  returned  in  security. 
The  respect  he  had  earned  by  his  upright  and 
unselfish  life,  and  the  gratitude  with  which  the 
citizens  remembered  the  many  public  benefits  he 
had  conferred,  were  his  safeguards  at  this  mo- 
ment of  trial.  But  he  had  lost  forever  the  affec- 
tion, and  probably  the  good  opinion,  of  the 
community  which  had  before  been  ever  ready 
to  exalt  and  do  him  honor.      From  that  clay 


14  THE    MIDNIGHT   WAKNING 

existence  was  made  a  weary  burden  to  him. 
He  was  regarded  as  an  outcast,  and  condemned 
to  an  isolation  which  was  relieved  by  no  single 
sign  of  sympathy,  even  from  those  who  had  been 
his  deepest  debtors.  The  malice,  the  contumely, 
the  insolent  brutality  with  which  he  was  per- 
secuted would  have  crushed  a  man  of  less  indom- 
itable will ;  but  no  word  of  complaint  fell  from 
his  lips,  and  I  recall  no  interruption  to  the 
patient  dignity  which  sustained  him  through 
months  of  sorrow  and  privation. 

The  flag  which  my  father  loved  was  carefully 
put  away  on  the  morning  following  the  Fourth. 
He  did  not  wish  to  expose  it  to  any  chance  of 
insult  or  mockery,  nor  was  he  inclined  to  excite 
animosity  by  openly  displaying  it.  But  the  little 
volume  I  had  noticed,  which  was  a  copy  of  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  which  now 
appeared  to  command  his  reverence  beyond  all 
books  save  that  beside  which  he  had  placed  it, 
remained  in  constant  use.  It  became  the  basis 
of  a  course  of  study  by  which  I  was  made  ac- 
quainted with  the  principles  in  defence  of  which 
he  was  willing  to  accept  a  life  of  sacrifice  and 
pain. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the  miseries  of 
that  cruel  winter.  My  grandmother  died  before 
the  incoming  of  the  year  1862,  and  early  in  the 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  15 

ensuing  summer  my  dear  mother  followed  her. 
I  well  knew  that  after  this  event  nothing  would 
long  detain  my  father.  He  waited  only  for  the 
opportunity  to  break  away  from  the  galling  in- 
activity to  which  he  had  been  condemned,  and 
he  felt  that  this  was  near  at  hand  when  the  news 
came  that  General  Curtis,  with  a  sufficient  Union 
force,  was  about  to  establish  himself  on  the  west- 
ern side  of  the  Mississippi,  fixing  his  headquarters 
at  Helena. 

On  the  Fourth  of  July,  18G2,  I  was  again 
called  to  our  library  to  receive  my  father's  final 
orders,  previous  to  his  departure.  The  silken 
flag  had  been  taken  from  its  hiding-place,  and 
hung  once  more  over  the  "Washington  portrait. 
The  Constitution,  which  I  now  knew  so  well  by 
heart  that  its  covers  were  seldom  opened,  was  in 
its  place  of  distinction,  near  the  Bible.  My  twin- 
sister  Jennie,  and  my  little  brother  Julius,  nine 
years  old,  were  also  summoned  to  this  interview. 

"  I  made  a  mistake,"  my  father  said,  "  in  keep- 
ing you,  Lionel,  so  long  ignorant  of  what  it  was 
needful  you  should  learn.  We  must  not  let  Julius 
grow  up  without  a  better  understanding  of  our 
obligations  to  the  only  country  that  a  Claiborne 
can  honorably  acknowledge.  He  is  too  young 
to  grasp  more  than  the  simple  outlines  of  the 
situation,  but  he  knows  why  I  must  leave  you, 


16  THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING 

and  with  what  purpose  I  go.  Instruct  him  in 
the  right  course,  so  far  as  his  years  will  allow, 
and  make  him  what  a  loyal  American's  son  should 
be,  until  I  can  take  him  under  my  own  care  again." 

I  promised,  fervently  and  faithfully,  for  my 
father's  labor  had  borne  good  fruit,  and  he  could 
not  have  asked  for  a  sincerer  disciple  of  his  na- 
tional faith  than  I  had  become  through  his  wise 
and  earnest  teaching. 

"  And  now,  my  boy,"  he  continued,  "  from  this 
day  I  give  over  to  you  the  charge  of  our  home 
and  the  guardianship  of  your  sister  and  brother. 
It  is  a  trust  which  I  know  you  will  fulfil  with 
diligence,  and  you  will  not  find  it  too  heavy  a 
burden,  for  you  have  a  steady  head  on  }'our  fif- 
teen-year-old shoulders,  and  have  thoroughly 
learned  the  necessary  lessons  of  prudence  and 
self-restraint.  I  can  leave  you  only  a  little  mon- 
ey, but  the  plantation  will  supply  most  of  your 
actual  needs.  Some  of  the  negroes  will  stand  by 
you  to  the  last  extremity.  I  cannot  answer  for 
all.  I  have  given  them  to  understand  that  they 
are  free,  so  far  as  my  will  can  liberate  them,  and 
that  I  believe  they  soon  will  be  so  declared  by 
the  law  of  the  land.  Those  who  choose  to  re- 
main under  your  control  until  peace  is  restored 
will  find  me  then  ready  to  help  in  fitting  them 
for  their  new  condition.      Manv,  however,  will 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING  17 

prefer  to  seek  their  fortune  in  their  own  way, 
and  of  course  they  cannot  be  stayed  by  you.  I 
do  not  think  that  my  fellow-citizens  who  have 
honored  me  so  liberally  with  their  disfavor  will 
harass  you  after  I  have  gone.  The  Southern 
people  are  not  inhuman,  no  matter  how  misguid- 
ed they  may  be,  and  the  worst  of  them  would 
take  no  pleasure  in  molesting  a  family  of  chil- 
dren haplessly  deprived  of  their  parent's  protec- 
tion. They  will  bitterly  assail  me  for  what  they 
will  call  my  desertion  of  you,  but  I  can  heed  no 
reproach  for  obeying  the  commands  of  my  con- 
science. Come  nearer  to  me,  my  dear  ones.  Let 
me  say  farewell  while  we  stand  together  beneath 
the  flag  for  the  sake  of  which  I  part  from  you, 
and  under  which,  by  God's  blessing,  we  shall 
surely  be  reunited,  in  happiness  and  love." 

He  left  us  at  nightfall,  and,  passing  through 
the  Union  lines,  was  warmly  welcomed  as  a  wor- 
thy accession  to  the  body  of  skilled  soldiers  then 
gathering  around  the  great  general  who  was 
presently  to  lead  the  armies  of  the  nation,  one 
after  another,  to  the  proudest  victories  of  mod- 
ern history. 

The  year  went  slowly  by,  with  few  events  to 
vary  the  monotony  which  settled  upon  our  house- 
hold. Though  we  had  little  to  cheer  us,  we  were 
seldom  called  upon  to  endure  actual  hardships. 


18  THE   MIDNIGHT    WARNING 

The  people  in  the  vicinity  were  not  unkind,  and 
some  among  them  were  apparently  ready  to  be- 
friend us  to  a  certain  extent ;  but,  remembering 
the  bitterness  of  their  rancor  towards  my  father, 
I  could  not  respond  to  any  of  their  advances, 
and  we  were  gradually  left  to  the  solitude  which 
we  preferred  to  any  companionship  that  our  lo- 
cality could  afford. 

I  worked  hard  at  all  seasons,  assisted  sturdily 
by  old  Ptolemy  and  a  dozen  more  of  our  best 
servants,  who  never  dreamed  of  abandoning  the 
homes  in  which  they  had  been  reared.  But  for 
their  lively  humor  the  loneliness  would  have  been 
almost  unbearable.  We  heard  twice  from  father 
during  the  winter,  the  letters  being  brought  out 
secretly  by  scouting  parties.  Frequent  commu- 
nications were  impossible,  for  General  Curtis 
kept  his  troops,  as  a  rule,  well  within  their  for- 
tifications, and  it  had  been  clearly  pointed  out 
by  the  neighbors  that  I  should  be  sharply  dealt 
with  if  I  attempted  to  wander  from  our  prem- 
ises towards  the  river. 

With  the  spring  of  1863  came  indications  of 
active  movements  on  both  sides,  and  small  bod- 
ies of  cavalry  began  to  circulate  through  our 
part  of  Arkansas,  doing  little  damage  to  one  an- 
other, but  a  great  deal  to  the  property  of  the 
inhabitants,  who  were  roused  to  an  irritation 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  19 

which  manifested  itself  in  many  disagreeable 
forms.  By  various  acts  of  incivility  we  were 
made  aware  that  a  new  feeling  of  hostility  was 
growing  up  against  us,  and  I  had  to  exercise  con- 
stant caution  to  avoid  being  drawn  into  ugly 
quarrels.  I  should  not  have  thought  it  desira- 
ble to  acquaint  father  with  these  causes  of  dis- 
comfort, even  if  I  had  been  able  to  do  so,  but  he 
had  means  of  knowing  almost  everything  that 
went  on ;  and  I  received  a  message  from  him  in 
May,  telling  me  that  if  he  found  we  were  likely 
to  be  driven  too  hard,  he  would  either  get  leave 
of  absence  and  come  for  us,  or  send  a  trusty  mes- 
senger to  extricate  us  from  our  position  and  take 
us  to  him.  But  he  did  not  wish  to  decide  upon 
our  removal  unless  it  became  a  matter  of  grave 
necessity. 

From  this  time  onward  I  was  in  constant  dis- 
quiet. I  should  not  have  felt  so  ill  at  ease  if  I 
had  been  alone,  for  I  had  no  doubt  that  I  could 
make  my  way  out  of  the  disturbed  region  at  any 
moment ;  but  I  feared  for  those  who  looked  to 
me  for  preservation  from  peril — my  young  broth- 
er, and  my  high-spirited  sister,  who  never  could 
reconcile  herself  to  the  restraints  of  our  position. 
Scarcely  a  day  passed  without  the  appearance  of 
Southern  guerilla  bands ;  and  though  I  was  dis- 
inclined to  believe  that  our  neighbors  would  go 


20  THE   MIDNIGHT   WAENING 

so  far  as  to  excite  the  animosity  of  these  raiders 
against  us,  it  "was  certain  that  some  of  their  dem- 
onstrations, as  they  rode  wildly  by,  were  any- 
thing but  pacific. 

A  little  before  sundown  on  the  third  of  July, 
1863,  as  I  sat  on  our  piazza,  looking  anxiously 
up  and  down  the  Clarendon  Eoad,  a  single  rider 
came  in  view,  galloping  at  breakneck  speed  from 
the  direction  of  Helena.  He  checked  his  course 
at  the  gateway,  and  I  at  once  started  down  the 
avenue  to  meet  him ;  but  before  I  had  half  cross- 
ed the  lawn  he  was  flying  onward  again,  and  I 
lost  sight  of  him  as  he  entered  a  thicket  about 
half  a  mile  distant. 

Ten  minutes  later  he  came  tearing  back  more 
furiously  than  ever.  I  was  now  standing  at  the 
gate,  and  as  soon  as  he  caught  sight  of  me  he 
stopped  short  and  began  to  examine  me  keenly. 

"  Are  3tou  Lionel  Claiborne  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  That  is  my  name,"  I  replied. 

"You  answer  the  description.  Tell  me  your 
father's  full  name." 

"Andrew  J.  Claiborne,"  I  promptly  responded. 

"  Exactly ;  the  '  J '  stands  for  Jackson,  of 
course— Andrew  Jackson  Claiborne." 

This  made  me  suspicious.  My  father's  second 
name  was  not  Jackson,  as  it  happened. 

"  "Why  do  you  wish  to  know  V  I  demanded. 


THE   MIDNIGHT    WAENING  21 

"  Perhaps  I've  a  letter  for  you  if  you  are  the 
right  person,"  he  answered,  drawing  a  parcel 
from  his  coat-pocket. 

"  I  can't  say  how  much  I  thank  you,"  exclaimed 
I.     "  We  haven't  heard  from  him  since — " 

"  Since  when  ?" 

"  Since  Clayton's  raid,  last  May." 

" Correct.     And  the  'J'  stands  for — " 

"  Julius,"  said  I,  without  hesitation,  this  time ; 
for  a  glimpse  of  father's  handwriting  on  the  en- 
velope had  put  an  end  to  most  of  my  doubts. 

"  One  more  question,  my  lad.  I  am  a  friend 
of  Colonel  Claiborne.  If  this  is  his  house,  there's 
a  recess  in  the  library  which  should  hold  two 
books.  Tell  me  what  they  are,  and  I'll  hand 
you  the  document." 

"  One  is  our  family  Bible — " 

"  And  the  other  ?" 

I  looked  at  the  stranger  steadily,  and  believed 
that  I  saw  honesty  and  good  faith  in  his  counte- 
nance. Nevertheless  I  could  not  all  at  once 
place  myself  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  a  man 
whom  I  saw  for  the  first  time. 

"  If  you  are  my  father's  friend,"  I  said,  "  and 
have  heard  from  him  about  the  contents  of  our 
library,  you  must  know  that  I  cannot  speak  of 
them  to  everybody .;' 

"  True  enough  ;  I'll  give  you  a  start.    To-mor- 


22  THE   MIDNIGHT    WARNING 

row  morning  you  will  go  through  the  ceremony 
of  hanging  something  above  a  big  picture  on  the 
wall.  There;  if  that  doesn't  satisfy  you  I'm 
afraid  j^ou're  hard  to  please." 

"  It  does  satisfy  me.  The  book  you  refer  to  is 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States." 

"Here  you  are,"  cried  the  horseman,  tossing 
me  the  letter.  "Read  it  carefully  and  act  ac- 
cordingly. I  can't  stop  to  talk,  for  the  whole 
State  of  Arkansas  is  broke  loose,  and,  by  Hanky, 
a  good  part  of  it  is  at  my  heels.  To-mor- 
row— " 

His  sentence  was  cut  short  by  the  sharp  crack 
of  a  rifle,  and  he  spurred  away  without  another 
word.  Then  there  came  a  rattling  discharge 
from  the  upper  road,  and  a  dozen  bullets  flew 
past,  one  of  which  caught  the  escaping  rider's 
hat  and  sent  it  rolling  in  the  dust. 

As  I  was  picking  it  up  a  small  detachment  of 
cavalry  surrounded  me,  and  the  leader  hurriedly 
began  to  inquire  who  it  was  that  had  scampered 
off  in  so  desperate  a  hurry. 

"You  gave  him  no  time  to  tell,"  I  answered, 
pointing  to  the  hole  through  the  hat. 

"Did  he  say  nothing  at  all?"  asked  the  of- 
ficer. 

"  He  said  the  whole  State  of  Arkansas  was 
after  him,  and  he  had  no  time  to  talk." 


THE    MIDNIGHT    WARNING  23 

"  Struck  it  about  right,  he  did ;"  and  the  cav- 
alry leader  laughed  grimly.  4;  Federal  scout,  I 
reckon.     We'll  wait  here  for  orders,  boys." 


Ill 

I  speedily  learned  that  a  good-sized  army  un- 
der the  Confederate  general,  Holmes,  was  close 
at  hand,  advancing  to  attack  the  Union  troops  at 
Helena  without  delay.  Before  midnight  a  num- 
ber of  regiments  had  marched  by  and  taken  po- 
sition a  short  distance  below  our  deserted  gar- 
dens. By  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  lower 
part  of  the  house  was  filled  with  Southern  gen- 
erals and  their  staffs,  for  whom  I  provided,  with 
the  assistance  of  my  brother  and  sister,  such  re- 
freshment as  our  limited  store  would  allow. 

They  were  all  unknown  to  me,  and  it  probably 
did  not  occur  to  them  that  any  inhabitant  of  that 
red-hot  section  could  be  other  than  a  stanch 
adherent  of  the  Confederacy,  though  their  con- 
fidence was  so  overweening  that  I  doubt  if 
anything  would  have  made  them  feel  the  need 
of  cautious  speech.  The  only  member  of  the 
party  who  appeared  in  the  slightest  degree  un- 
certain as  to  the  result  of  the  forthcoming  battle 


24  THE   MIDNIGHT   WAENINO 

was  an  elderly  soldier,  whom  his  associates  ad- 
dressed as  General  Price.  The  others  were  jubi- 
lant in  the  belief  that  they  would  sweep  the 
handful  of  Yankees  into  the  Mississippi  before 
the  following  day  was  half  over. 

I  was  scarcely  noticed  as  I  went  from  room  to 
room,  listening  intently  while  the  plan  of  the 
proposed  engagement  was  freely  discussed  and 
the  certainty  of  victory  loudly  proclaimed.  My 
heart  sank  when  I  calculated  the  strength  of  the 
combined  Southern  force.  From  what  I  heard 
on  all  sides,  it  could  not  be  less  than  10,000. 
Early  in  the  winter  Helena  had  been  occupied 
by  a  powerful  body,  under  Curtis  and  others,  but 
this  had  since  been  reduced  to  a  single  division, 
led  by  General  Prentiss.  The  remainder  had 
gone  farther  south,  to  take  part  in  the  operations 
against  Vicksburg.  I  knew  nothing  positive  as 
to  the  present  number  of  the  garrison,  but  had 
reason  to  believe,  from  reports  brought  me  by 
our  negroes,  that  it  could  not  be  more  than  one- 
fourth  of  the  attacking  army. 

Was  the  Union  commander  prepared  for  so 
unequal  a  contest?  Was  he,  indeed,  prepared 
for  any  contest  at  this  time?  Several  of  the 
Southern  officers  seemed  hopeful  of  canying  the 
town  by  surprise,  though  General  Price  urged 
them  not  to  trust  too  blindly  to  that  expectation. 


THE   MIDNIGHT    WARNING  25 

Young  and  inexperienced  as  I  was,  I  could  un- 
derstand that  a  great  crisis  was  at  hand,  and 
that,  apart  from  public  considerations,  my  own 
poor  little  destiny,  and  that  of  my  family,  de- 
pended largely  upon  the  events  of  the  next 
twenty -four  hours. 

To  what  use  could  I  put  myself  in  this  peril- 
ous emergency  ?  I  asked  this  question  repeated- 
ly, but  found  no  answer.  What  could  a  boy  of 
sixteen  do,  however  willing  and  eager  ?  What 
would  my  father  have  me  do,  if  he  were  here  % 
My  father!  I  remembered  suddenly,  with  a 
pang  of  self-reproach,  that,  in  the  whirl  of  confu- 
sion following  the  arrival  of  the  soldiers,  I  had 
not  given  a  second  thought  to  the  missive  re- 
ceived some  hours  before.  The  absorbing  inci- 
dents of  the  evening  had  driven  it  from  my  mind, 
and  it  lay  unopened  in  the  pocket  where  I  had  at 
first  hastily  concealed  it. 

I  lost  no  time  in  seeking  my  own  chamber 
and  breaking  the  envelope.  It  contained  only 
these  few  lines : 

"  My  dear  Son, — On  receipt  of  this  you  will 
put  the  house  in  order  and  make  ready  for  de- 
parture, with  Jennie  and  Julius,  at  the  shortest 
notice.  If  fortune  favors  our  cause,  of  which  all 
of  us  who  follow  Grant  are  happily  assured,  you 


26  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

will  be  summoned  on  or  soon  after  the  coming1 
Fourth  of  July.  Meanwhile,  I  charge  you  to  be 
steadfast,  and  leave  no  duty  to  your  country  un- 
fulfilled. Your  loving 

"  Father." 

"  No  duty  unfulfilled  !"  What  was  my  duty  ? 
Our  household  affairs  needed  no  attention,  for  I 
had  so  disposed  them,  weeks  before,  that  we 
could  set  forth  without  an  hour's  delay  at  the 
cost  of  only  a  few  trifling  sacrifices.  Since  I 
learned  my  father's  wishes,  in  Ma}^  this  had 
been  my  chief  concern,  and  the  consciousness 
that  I  had  labored  faithfully  to  execute  his  or- 
ders was  the  chief  consolation  of  my  dreary  ex- 
istence. 

What  duty  now  remained?  I  sat  on  my  cot- 
bed  and  pondered  for  nearly  an  hour,  when  a 
flash  of  intelligence  came  into  my  mind.  It  was 
now  eleven  o'clock.  Quickly  descending  to  the 
lower  floor  I  entered  the  parlor  in  which  the 
Confederate  commanders  were  still  holding  coun- 
cil. To  a  young  officer  who  seemed  less  busily 
engaged  than  his  seniors  I  addressed  myself 
thus: 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  sir,  if  your  lines  are  outside 
of  our  grounds?  I  have  to  make  my  rounds  be- 
fore going  to  bed." 


THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING  27 

"  You  look  too  tired  for  any  more  work,  my 
boy,"  he  answered,  kindly.  "How  far  do  you 
wish  to  go  ?" 

"As  far  as  both  ends  of  the  plantation.  It 
will  not  take  very  long,  but  I  don't  want  to  be 
stopped  on  the  way." 

"  If  it  is  necessary — " 

"  I  should  feel  that  I  was  neglecting  my  prop- 
er tasks  if  I  failed." 

"  Very  well ;  3rou  shall  have  a  pass." 

He  went  to  the  table  and  spoke  to  one  of  his 
superiors. 

"  Certainly,  Captain  Fairchild,"  was  the  reply. 
"  Make  out  the  permit,  and  I  will  sign  it." 

"  Please  call  on  my  brother  for  anything  you 
need,"  I  said  to  Captain  Fairchild,  while  he  was 
writing.  "  He  is  a  little  fellow,  but  you'll  find 
him  bright  for  his  age." 

"  Here  is  your  pass ;"  and  the  captain  handed 
me  a  bit  of  paper.  Bending  down,  he  whispered, 
"The  word  for  the  night  is  ' Peraberton.'  Be 
careful  how  you  use  it." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  I  replied.  "I  had  better 
not  disturb  you  when  I  come  back.  I  will  go 
straight  to  my  room,  unless  I  hear  that  you 
want  me." 

I  ran  to  my  sister's  chamber,  gave  her  a  longer 
good-night  kiss  than  usual,  and  told  her  to  retire 


28  THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

as  soon  as  possible  and  keep  old  Nurse  Tilly 
with  her  till  the  morning.  To  my  brother  Ju- 
lius I  said  that  I  had  to  ride  across  our  fields,  and 
might  not  return  till  very  late ;  but  he  was  not 
to  make  the  least  remark  upon  my  absence,  and 
must  simply  do  what  he  was  bade  by  our  vis- 
itors, without  entering  into  conversation  upon 
any  subject. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  I  was  in  the  saddle, 
and  on  the  way  to  the  north-eastern  boundary 
of  our  estate.  I  did  not  think  it  wise  to  cross 
the  patrol  lines  on  the  high-road,  but  determined 
to  follow  the  interior  paths  until  I  was  well  be- 
yond the  range  of  skirmishers.  I  had  not  a  par- 
ticle of  difficulty  in  getting  through.  It  amused 
me,  however,  to  observe  that  most  of  the  sen- 
tries, after  examining  my  safe-conduct  with  elab- 
orate scrutiny — turning  it  upsidedown,  and  even 
staring  at  the  back,  where  there  was  no  writing 
at  all — allowed  it  to  be  evident  that  they  could 
not  read,  and  insisted  on  having  the  password 
into  the  bargain.  Some  of  them  mumbled  that 
it  was  too  dark  to  see  the  written  signature, 
though  the  moon  was  shining  with  uncommon 
brightness. 

It  was  fortunate,  therefore,  that  the  good-nat- 
ured captain  had  thought  to  provide  me  with 
the  double  securit}r.     I  wondered  at  the  readi- 


THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING  29 

ness  with  which  the  privilege  of  free  egress  had 
been  accorded,  especially  on  the  eve  of  a  battle ; 
but,  as  I  have  remarked,  the  Southerners  were 
too  triumphantly  confident  of  success  to  be  gov- 
erned by  ordinary  discretion.  Still,  I  was  sure 
that  if  any  of  the  party  occupying  our  house 
had  known  me,  or  if  a  single  neighbor  had  been 
present  to  tell  the  story  of  my  father's  fidelity 
to  the  Union,  I  might  as  well  have  asked  for  the 
command  of  General  Holmes's  army  as  for  the 
slightest  civility  from  one  of  its  leaders. 

I  must  admit  that  I  was  not  wholly  satisfied 
with  the  manner  in  which  I  was  repaying  Cap- 
tain Fairchild's  generous  trust.  That  considera- 
tion gave  a  very  uneasy  turn  to  my  reflections. 
But  my  father  had  never  suffered  me  to  doubt 
that  the  demands  of  the  country  were  first  of  all 
entitled  to  obedience,  or  to  believe  that  obliga- 
tions of  patriotism  could  be  honorably  evaded, 
no  matter  how  strongly  they  might  conflict  with 
our  selfish  instincts  of  pride  and  vanity.  I  was 
sure  of  his  approval,  and  I  remember  that  it  ap- 
peared to  my  overwrought  imagination,  in  that 
hour  of  enthusiasm,  that  his  letter,  so  opportune- 
ly delivered,  had  really  come  to  me  as  a  direct 
token  of  admonition  and  encouragement. 

As  I  had  hoped,  the  outer  picket  line  of  the 
Southerners  was  within  the  limits  of  our  own 


30  THE    MIDNIGHT    WAENING 

property.  Having  passed  it  at  a  secluded  and 
unexposed  spot,  I  kept  on  in  a  north-easterly  di- 
rection for  perhaps  ten  minutes,  and  then  turned 
southward,  striking  the  high-road  at  a  distance 
of  about  ten  miles  from  Helena.  Thencefor- 
ward I  was  at  liberty  to  make  up  for  wasted 
time.  It  was  but  half  an  hour  after  midnight 
when  my  gallant  little  mustang  brought  me  in 
view  of  the  heavy  earthworks  that  guarded  the 
town.  Forgetting  the  requirements  of  prudence, 
I  was  rushing  onward  at  a  headlong  rate  when 
a  shout  from  the  wayside  arrested  me. 

"  Halt !     Who  goes  there  ?" 

"  A  friend  !  a  friend  !"  I  cried,  nervously,  pull- 
ing my  pony  to  his  haunches. 

"  Come  on,  friend,  if  you  have  the  word,"  re- 
sponded the  sentinel. 

"I  haven't  the  word,  but  I  bring  important 
news — very  important." 

"  "Wait  there,"  exclaimed  the  soldier,  harshly, 
coming  out  from  shelter.  "  Get  away  from  un- 
der that  tree  into  the  light." 

I  did  as  I  was  commanded,  and  he  moved 
slowly  forward,  narrowly  watching  me  at  every 
step. 

"  "Who  are  you  V  he  asked,  when  he  reached 
my  side. 

"  A  friend  of  the  Union,"  I  replied.     "  I  live 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  31 

eleven  miles  out,  on  the  Clarendon  Road.  Let 
me  go  to  General  Prentiss." 

The  guard  laughed  softly. 

"  We'll  see  about  that,"  he  said,  and  began  to 
question  me  on  various  topics. 

"  You  are  taking  a  great  risk,"  I  warned  him. 
"  Money  can't  measure  the  value  of  what  I  have 
to  tell  your  general." 

He  seemed  impressed  by  this,  and  by  my  ear- 
nestness, and  led  me  with  great  caution  to  a 
guard  station  not  far  away.  The  sergeant  in 
charge  was  quicker  than  his  subordinate  to  ap- 
preciate the  situation,  and  I  was  immediately 
blindfolded  and  taken,  still  on  horseback,  by  a 
winding  course,  to  a  spot  which  I  guessed  to  be 
in  the  centre  of  the  fortification.  Here  I  was 
ordered  to  dismount,  and  the  bandage  was  re- 
moved from  my  eyes. 


IV 

Seated  at  a  table  in  the  open  air,  before  a 
large  tent,  was  a  person  of  evident  rank,  whom 
I  had  once  or  twice  seen  passing  our  place,  at- 
tended by  a  small  escort  of  cavalry.  Several 
aides  stood  by  him. 


32  THE    MIDNIGHT    WARNING 

"What  have  you  to  say,  young  man?"  inquired 
this  officer,  who  wore  no  distinguishing  uniform. 

"I  am  speaking  to  General  Prentiss,  I  pre- 
sume," were  my  first  words. 

"Never  mind  that,"  he  answered,  curtly.  "What 
brings  you  here?" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  general ;  I  asked  because 
I  have  a  great  deal  of  information,  and  there 
may  not  be  time  to  tell  it  twice  over." 

"I  will  take  care  of  that,"  he  returned.  "Be 
quick  with  your  story." 

I  then  repeated,  as  concisely  as  I  could,  what  I 
had  heard  respecting  the  plan  of  Holmes's  assault 
upon  the  town.  For  a  time  the  Union  general 
listened  indifferently,  but  when  I  began  to  state 
the  particulars  he  showed  more  interest,  and 
directed  one  of  his  officers  to  take  notes  of  my 
report. 

"  Go  over  that  again,"  he  said,  at  one  point. 
"  You  tell  me  that  you  had  these  details  from 
General  Holmes's  own  lips." 

"  Every  word,  sir ;  either  from  him  or  those 
next  him  in  authority." 

"  They  attack  at  daylight  ?" 

"At  daylight.  Price  begins  the  battle  by 
storming  the  outer  central  works  on  the  Ceme- 
tery Eoad." 

"  Did  you  hear  what  his  force  is  ?" 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING  33 

"  General  Parsons  has  a  brigade  of  2000.  He 
marches  upon  the  front.  McKae,  with  about 
1500,  will  try  to  get  at  the  rear." 

"  Go  on." 

"  An  infantry  body  of  2000,  under  General  Fa- 
gan,  will  try  to  carry  a  redoubt  at  your  left — 
Fort  Hindraan,  they  called  it ;  and  Marmaduke, 
who  also  has  about  2000,  will  strike  the  fort  on 
Reiter's  Hill — your  right,  I  heard  them  say." 

"  How  is  that  ?  Marmaduke  has  nothing;-  but 
cavalry." 

"  Yes  sir,  so  I  understood.  They  are  to  be 
dismounted  for  this  fight.  So  is  Walker's  bri- 
gade, a  thousand  strong.  They  will  make  for  an 
earthwork  to  your  north,  on  the  road  to  Stirling." 

"  You  didn't  mention  that  before,"  broke  in  a 
stout,  swarthy  officer,  jumping  up  from  a  camp- 
stool  and  stepping  towards  me. 

"  I  was  just  going  to,  sir,  when  the  general 
asked  me  to  begin  again." 

"  The  river  works  are  all  right,"  said  the  gentle- 
man whom  I  took  to  be  General  Prentiss  to  the 
stout  speaker.  "  The  Tyler  alone  can  take  care 
of  them.  ISTow,  boy,"  he  added,  turning  to  me, 
"  what  about  the  artillery  ?" 

"  I  didn't  hear  much  about  it,  sir.  I  am  sure 
they  have  artillery,  but  I  think — " 

"Well?" 

3 


34  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

"  My  opinion  goes  for  very  little,  sir." 

"  Let  us  have  it,  all  the  same." 

"  It  struck  me  that  they  did  not  mean  to  rely 
much  on  their  artillery.  They  are  dead  sure 
you  cannot  stand  against  their  foot  -  soldiers. 
They  say  they  outnumber  you  four  to  one." 

"  They  are  mightily  mistaken,  then,"  exclaimed 
the  general,  abruptly,  and  giving  me  a  keen 
glance.  "What  strength  do  they  claim  alto- 
gether ?" 

"  Close  upon  10,000, 1  judge." 

"  And  all  ready  to  clean  us  out  at  sunrise,  and 
cook  us  and  eat  us  for  breakfast,  hey  ?" 

"  They  are  very  confident,  all  except  General 
Price.  He  wasn't  so  hot  for  the  engagement. 
He  said  there  was  no  chance  of  a  surprise." 

"  Did  he  send  you  to  tell  us  that  ?"  said  the 
general,  rising  suddenly,  and  peering  into  my 
eyes. 

I  felt  that  my  face  showed  red  as  fire  by  the 
light  of  the  lantern  which  he  caught  up  and  held 
before  me. 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  say,  sir,"  I  answered, 
with  as  much  composure  as  I  could  command, 
though  I  could  not  keep  my  voice  from  trembling. 
"  I  came  on  an  honest  errand.  I  see  it  has  been 
a  failure." 

"  "We  shall  know  better  about  that  to-morrow. 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  35 

Orderly,  look  after  this  young  man  for  the  night. 
Make  him  comfortable— and  keep  him  close.'-' 

"  But  I  can't  stop,  sir,"  I  said,  in  alarm.  "  I 
must  go  back  at  once." 

"  Oh  no  ;  we  have  no  desire  to  lose  your  com- 
pany. Simmons,  here,  will  take  care  of  you  for 
the  present ;  till  after  to-morrow,  we  will  say." 

He  spoke  ironically,  perhaps  with  the  purpose 
of  irritating  me  and  throwing  me  off  my  guard ; 
but,  though  bitterly  mortified  and  angry  at  his 
implied  suspicion,  I  controlled  my  feelings  for 
the  sake  of  those  at  home. 

"  I  beg  you,  general,  to  consider  my  position," 
I  cried.  "I  have  ridden  eleven  miles  at  mid- 
night, and  hazarded  more  than  my  own  safety, 
to  bring  you  this  news,  because  I  believed  it  to  be 
my  duty.  I  have  left  my  young  sister  and  brother 
alone,  surrounded  by  Southern  troops.  Do  you 
wish  to  reward  me  by  exposing  them  to  danger?" 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  danger  ?"  he  answered, 
impatiently.  "  The  Southern  troops  are  not 
likely  to  injure  a  boy  and  girl  of  their  own 
soil." 

"  Don't  say  that,  sir.  They  have  no  idea  whose 
house  they  are  in,  but  if  any  informer  should 
breathe  a  word  of  my  father's  record,  his  chil- 
dren's chance  would  be  a  hard  one.  I  must  be 
there  to  protect  them." 


36  TIIE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

"  I'm  afraid  you  are  trying  to  play  too  clever 
a  game,  young  man.    Who  is  your  father  V 

"Colonel  Andrew  Claiborne.  He  is  serving 
with  General  Grant." 

The  officer  was  already  moving  away,  but  as 
he  caught  the  name  he  stopped  short,  and  I 
noticed  that  all  of  those  who  were  grouped  around 
the  table  rose  from  their  seats  and  drew  near  me. 

"  Dan  Claiborne  ?  Incredible !  I  never  heard 
that  any  part  of  his  family  stayed  behind  in 
Arkansas." 

"We  have  been  living  at  home,  three  of  us,  since 
he  entered  your  service,  last  July." 

"  How  could  he  leave  you  in  so  frightful  a 
situation  ?" 

"  He  had  to  go;  he  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer. 
During  the  first  year  of  the  war,  my  mother — 
but  you  don't  care  for  this,  sir." 

"  Indeed  I  do,  my  lad.  I  care  for  an}^thing 
that  concerns  Colonel  Claiborne  and  those  who 
bear  his  name.     Speak  freely." 

"  My  mother  was  so  ill  that  he  was  bound  not 
to  forsake  her.  It  was  a  dreadful  life  the  people 
made  him  lead,  for  I  believe  he  was  the  only 
lo}^al  man  in  the  whole  county ;  but  he  held  on 
till  after  her  death,  and  then  went  away,  leaving 
me  in  charge  of  everything.  He  couldn't  take 
us  with  him,  and  yet  he  couldn't  stay." 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING  37 

"  And  how  have  you  fared  ?" 

"  Not  so  very  badly,  sir.  I  have  had  to  keep 
myself  mighty  quiet,  and  of  course  all  our  old 
friends  had  given  us  up  from  the  beginning.  But 
it  might  have  been  worse.  You  won't  stop  me 
now,  general?" 

"Bless  my  soul,  no;  not  if  you  wish  to  go. 
Yet — wait  a  moment,  and  don't  take  offence  at 
what  I  am  obliged  to  do.  Orderly,  find  the  mes- 
senger who  brought  the  despatches  from  Yicks- 
burg,  two  days  ago.  Bring  him  immediately. 
He  asked  permission,  yesterday  afternoon,"  con- 
tinued the  general  to  his  companions,  "  to  ride 
out  on  the  Clarendon  Eoad  and  reconnoitre.  Let 
us  see  what  it  was  all  about." 

In  less  than  a  minute,  it  seemed,  I  saw  before 
me  the  man  who  had  delivered  my  father's  letter 
on  the  previous  evening.  His  face  brightened 
with  a  smile  of  recognition. 

"You  appear  to  know  this  youngster,"  the  gen- 
eral said. 

"  It's  Colonel  Claiborne's  son,  by  Hanky !"  re- 
plied the  new-comer.  "  I'm  right  glad  to  meet 
him  again.  I  have  a  message  for  him  from  his 
father." 

"  That  is  sufficient.  I  beg  your  pardon,  my 
young  friend,  for  doubting  you  a  little  bit,  and  I 
thank  you  heartily  for  the  good  turn  you  have 


38  THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

done  us.  Gentlemen,"  he  remarked  to  his  offi- 
cers, "the  report  we  have  heard  takes  a  very 
definite  value  now.  You  will  oblige  me,  Mr. 
Claiborne,  by  clearing  up  one  or  two  details,  and 
then  you  are  free  to  do  what  you  deem  best." 

I  had  never  been  called  "Mr.  Claiborne"  in 
my  life,  and  it  amuses  me  to  remember  that  I 
was  enough  of  a  child  to  be  as  absurdly  elated  by 
this  trivial  puff  of  distinction  as  I  was  gratified 
by  the  general's  assurance  of  confidence.  After 
holding  me  in  conversation  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  longer,  he  bade  me  good-night,  expressing 
an  earnest  hope  that  before  the  week  was  over 
he  should  be  able  to  welcome  me  to  his  quarters 
under  circumstances  widely  different  from  those 
of  this  unceremonious  flying  interview. 

The  messenger  from  Mississippi  asked  and  ob- 
tained leave  to  accompany  me  a  part  of  the  way 
as  I  rode  homeward.  He  had  much  to  tell  me 
about  my  father  and  the  position  of  trust  and 
honor  to  which  he  had  risen  in  the  Union  service, 
and  some  wholesome  counsel  to  give  for  my  pres- 
ent guidance. 

"These  wild  Western  rebs  are  a  heap  too  brash," 
he  said,  just  before  turning  back  to  camp.  "  Old 
Holmes  is  going  to  get  an  awful  licking  to-mor- 
row, in  spite  of  the  big  crowd  he  has  at  his  back. 
I  wish  you  were  out  of  these  diggings,  my  boy. 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  39 

The  Johnnies  are  like  a  pack  of  wild  animals, 
after  a  defeat,  and  if  they  had  the  least  concep- 
tion of  what  you've  been  up  to — well,  you  know 
all  about  that ;  it's  no  use  talking  over  ugly  pos- 
sibilities. Take  good  care  of  yourself.  If  ever 
you  needed  prudence  you  need  it  now,  as  sure  as 
my  name  is  Jake  Rumford.  Your  father  has  it 
in  his  mind  to  come  up  for  you,  as  soon  as  Grant 
scoops  in  Yicksburg,  and  that's  only  a  question 
of  days.  But  this  is  going  to  be  a  scary  region 
for  young  folks  of  your  training,  with  a  runaway 
secesh  army  howling  and  rioting  over  the  land. 
My  advice  to  you,  if  you're  not  under  positive 
orders  to  stay,  is  to  seize  the  first  chance  and  get 
over  to  Helena  with  your  brother  and  sister. 
Your  work  this  night  gives  you  a  claim  that  our 
people  can't  overlook,  and  the  general  will  be 
glad  to  see  you  safe  down  the  river  to  Colonel 
Claiborne.  Think  it  over ;  think  hard.  You've 
given  yourself  a  start  that  ought  to  open  a  career 
for  you.  Don't  spoil  the  opportunity.  Let  your 
father  have  something  to  rejoice  at,  not  to  grieve 
over." 

The  good-hearted  scout  shook  me  warmly  by 
the  hand,  and  I  made  the  quickest  possible  time 
between  the  outlying  pickets  of  the  opposing 
forces. 


40  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 


V 

On  nearing  our  plantation  I  took  care  to  choose 
a  different  place  for  crossing  the  lines  from  that 
at  which  I  had  passed  out.  The  guards  looked 
sharply  at  me,  but  did  not  question  my  right  to 
be  admitted,  nor  delay  me  longer  than  was  nec- 
essary to  spell  out  the  permit.  I  went  through 
the  fields,  far  beyond  the  mansion,  making  a  wide 
circuit  in  order  to  approach  the  gateway  from 
the  upper  road.  When  I  rode  through  it,  at  four 
o'clock,  Holmes's  troops  were  already  stirring. 
Dismounting  in  the  stable-yard,  I  hunted  up  old 
Ptolemy,  and,  cautioning  him  to  say  nothing 
about  my  long  ramble,  sent  him  to  call  my 
brother  out  to  me.  From  Julius  I  learned  that 
Jennie  and  he  had  gone  through  the  night  with- 
out disturbance  in  their  part  of  the  house,  al- 
though the  occupants  of  the  lower  story  had 
been  rather  more  lively  than  was  agreeable.  Af- 
ter giving  him  some  necessary  instructions,  and 
sending  word  to  Jennie  that  she  had  better  keep 
to  her  chamber  until  I  could  speak  with  her,  I 
proceeded,  without  going  in-doors,  to  busy  my- 
self in  the  open  air. 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING  41 

Captain  Fairchild  was  the  first  of  our  military 
lodgers  to  make  his  appearance.  He  greeted  me 
pleasantly,  remarking  that  I  looked  as  if  I  had 
not  slept,  and  asking  if  it  had  been  a  hard  night 
for  me. 

"  You  see,  sir,"  I  answered,  evasively  and 
with  a  good  deal  of  awkwardness — for  it  went 
against  me  to  deceive  so  kindly  a  man — "  we 
never  before  had  so  many  soldiers  about  the 
house,  and  it  falls  on  me  to  look  after  every- 
thing." 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  you  can  take  plenty  of  rest 
after  we  go.  You  won't  be  disturbed  again. 
We  shall  sleep  in  Helena  to-night,  and  for  some 
time  to  come." 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  call  it  a  dead  certainty 
— to-day's  fight." 

"  You  may  reckon  on  that,"  he  replied,  laugh- 
ing gayly.  "  This  will  be  Prentiss's  second  sur- 
render, unless  he  runs  faster  than  he  did  at  Pitts- 
burg Landing,  and  gets  aboard  of  a  gunboat 
before  we  can  catch  him." 

"Til  say  good-bye,  then,  captain;  probably 
this  is  the  last  time  I  shall  see  you." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  not,"  he  said,  quickly  ;  "  I  would 
like  to  ride  out  for  a  call,  now  and  then,  if — if 
it  will  not  be  displeasing  to  your  sister." 

I  looked  at  him  in  surprise.     What  in  the 


42  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

■world  had  my  sister  to  do  with  the  coming  or 
staying  away  of  this  young  officer  ? 

"  I  took  the  liberty,  while  you  were  absent," 
he  added,  "of  sending  her  a  message  by  your 
brother.  Some  of  our  people  were  a  little  noisy 
in  the  night,  and  I  wanted  her  to  know  that  she 
should  not  suffer  the  slightest  personal  incon- 
venience, no  matter  how  much  patriotic  hilarity 
there  might  be  about  the  house.  I  considered 
that  this  was  due  to  the  young  lady  whose  hos- 
pitality we  had  rather  abruptly  demanded." 

This  puzzled  me  more  and  more.  To  hear 
Jennie  called  a  young  lady,  and  spoken  of  as  if 
she  were  the  head  of  the  establishment,  was  even 
more  odd  than  to  be  myself  addressed  as  Mr. 
Claiborne  by  an  officer  in  the  opposing  army. 
She  was  sixteen,  to  be  sure,  and  well  grown ; 
but,  after  all,  she  was  only  a  girl. 

"  It  was  very  good  of  you,  sir,"  I  said,  think- 
ing that  these  military  gentlemen  on  both  sides 
had  exceedingly  polite  manners  when  they  chose 
to  be  agreeable. 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all.  I  noticed,  early  in  the 
evening,  that  she  was  a  lady  of  very — very  supe- 
rior intelligence,  and — and  great  charm  of  man- 
ner. I  was  much  concerned  for  her  comfort.  I 
wanted  her  to  know  she  was  entirely  safe." 

I  stared  at  him  so  hard  that  he  probably  sup- 


THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING  43 

posed  I  was  too  stupid  to  comprehend  him ;  for 
he  went  on,  in  a  very  elaborate  and  precise  style, 
to  state  that  it  was  because  he  feared  his  freedom 
might  have  offended  her  that  he  desired  to  pay 
his  respects,  at  some  future  day,  and  make  his 
excuses. 

"Why,  how  could  she  be  offended  by  an  act 
of  courtesy  ?"  I  asked,  bluntly. 

"  You  think  not  ?  AVell,  I  trust  you  are  right. 
I  should  be  sorry — I  wonder  if — I  mean  that  it 
would  gratify  me  extremely  if  I  could  be  per- 
mitted to  take  leave  of  her  before  I  go ;  but  I 
suppose  that  is  out  of  the  question,  at  such  an 
hour." 

"  Dear  me !"  I  exclaimed ;  "  if  that  is  all,  I'll 
call  her  at  once — or  perhaps  you  had  better  come 
with  me."  I  felt  that  I  owed  him  something, 
after  all  that  had  occurred,  and  would  have 
gone  a  good  deal  out  of  my  way  to  please  him ; 
but  what  possessed  him  to  make  a  point  of  tak- 
ing leave  of  Jennie  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, I  could  not  imagine.  He  had  bidden  me 
good-bye,  which  any  one  would  think  ought  to 
have  been  enough. 

However,  Jennie  came  readily  out  of  her  room, 
looking  a  trifle  feverish,  I  regretted  to  observe, 
and  listened  quite  properly,  with  her  eyes  cast 
down,  while  Captain  Fairchild  spoke  to  her  in 


44  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

so  low  a  tone  that  I  did  not  catch  a  word. 
"  Good  gracious  !"  I  thought  to  myself,  "  how 
fast  she  is  growing  up !  It  never  struck  me  be- 
fore." She  bowed,  just  like  a  little  woman  in- 
stead of  a  child,  and  the  captain  uncovered  his 
head  to  her  as  deferentially  and  with  as  much 
ceremony  as  if  she  were  a  queen  and  he  were  on 
dress  parade;  though  in  fact  he  had  no  idea  as 
to  who  she  was,  and  probably  had  not  even  heard 
her  name.  They  didn't  talk  long,  but  she  must 
have  said  something  nice  and  clever — Jennie  had 
the  knack  of  making  pretty  speeches — for  he 
laughed  softly  when  he  left  her,  and  kept  on 
smiling  all  the  way  down-stairs  and  across  the 
lawn. 

As  soon  as  he  had  finally  gone,  I  hurried  back 
and  urged  my  sister  to  get  to  bed  and  nurse  her- 
self. She  was  quite  flushed,  and  her  e}Tes  were 
dancing  so  flightily  that  I  recommended  a  dose 
of  quinine  to  quiet  her  nerves.  She  tossed  her 
head  and  said  something  that  sounded  like  "  Hi- 
diculous-I-never-how-can-you-Lionel !"  —  running 
the  words  all  together  without  a  break  any- 
where, and  winding  up  her  incoherent  remark 
with  a  hysterical  giggle  that  made  me  more 
anxious  than  ever.  I  asked  if  the  commotion 
and  worry  had  not  been  too  much  for  her,  but 
she  declared  she  liked  it,  and  insisted  on  hearing 


THE   MIDNIGHT  WARNING  45 

everything  that  Captain  Fairchild  had  said  about 
her.  I  told  her  how  he  had  called  her  a  young 
lady,  and  all  that,  and  begged  to  know  if  she 
could  make  anything  out  of  it. 

"  Lionel,"  she  answered,  "  if  you  should  try  to 
count  the  geese  we  have  on  the  place,  you  never 
could  get  the  number  right.  You  would  be  per- 
fectly sure  to  leave  out  one— and  the  biggest  of 
the  flock." 

I  don't  repeat  that  as  an  example  of  Jennie's 
pretty  sayings.  She  did  not  favor  me  with 
these  as  often  as  she  did  other  people ;  per- 
haps she  thought  they  would  be  Avasted  on  a 
brother.  But  she  was  a  fine  girl,  for  all  that, 
and  one  to  be  proud  of,  as  I  shall  very  soon 
show. 

Before  five  o'clock  the  house  and  grounds  were 
all  clear  of  strangers,  and  the  army  was  winding 
its  wa}7  towards  the  river.  "We  sat  down  to 
breakfast,  and  I  gave  an  account  of  my  mid- 
night adventures,  to  which  Jennie,  who  had  fort- 
unately recovered  her  steadiness  without  taking 
either  repose  or  medicine,  listened  attentively 
and  thoughtfully,  while  Julius  was  thrown  into 
such  excitement  that  he  could  scarcely  swallow 
his  food. 

"  I  am  glad  you  did  it,"  said  my  sister.  "  You 
could  not  have  forgiven  yourself  if  you  had  let 


46  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

the  chance  go  by.  I  know  what  father  will 
think.     But  there  is  one  thing  that  grieves  me." 

"  What  is  that,  Jennie  ?" 

"  It  is  a  pity  you  had  to  deceive  the  only  gen- 
tleman who  took  pains  to  treat  us  handsomely. 
I  wish  it  had  been  some  one  else." 

"  That  hurts  me,  too,"  I  replied  ;  "  but  there 
was  no  other  way." 

"I  shall  not  dare  to  look  him  in  the  face 
again,"  pursued  my  sister. 

"  You  will  hardly  have  occasion  to,"  I  said, 
wishing  to  relieve  her;  but  she  did  not  seem 
grateful  for  this  attempt  at  consolation,  and  re- 
minded me  that  Fairchild  had  distinctly  an- 
nounced his  intention  of  coming  to  see  us. 

"  Why,  Jennie,  he  thinks  the  Northerners 
are  going  to  be  beaten.  I  don't  believe  any 
such  thing.  And  if  Holmes  is  driven  back, 
we  may  not  remain  here  a  week  longer,  you 
know." 

Not  long  after  this  we  heard  the  sound  of  can- 
non booming  at  a  distance.  The  attack  had  be- 
gun. Heavy  clouds  of  smoke  rose  in  the  east, 
and  we  watched  them  with  anxious  minds  and 
grave  faces  until  near  nine  o'clock,  when  we  be- 
thought us  of  the  duty  belonging  to  the  day. 
For  the  first  time,  we  were  separated  from  father 
on  a  Fourth  of  July,  but  we  knew  what  would 


.      THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  47 

be  done  if  he  were  here,  and  what  he  would  wish 
us  to  do  in  his  absence. 

We  went  to  the  library,  which  had  seldom 
been  used  during  the  past  year,  and  our  hearts 
were  filled  with  tender  recollections  of  the  dear 
parent  who  had  constrained  himself  to  leave  us 
only  because  his  conscience  told  him  he  would 
be  a  coward  if  he  stayed.  I  placed  the  worn 
copy  of  the  Constitution  where  he  had  laid  it 
on  the  two  preceding  anniversaries,  and  Jennie 
brought  in  the  old  flag.  "We  did  not  immediate- 
ly hang  it,  however,  being  interrupted  by  Ptol- 
emy, who  came  shuffling  through  the  hall  to  an- 
nounce that  a  great  crowd  was  in  sight  on  the 
lower  road,  half  hidden  by  the  dust  it  raised,  but 
evidently  coming  towards  us  with  a  swiftness 
which  he  could  not  understand. 

"  They  are  running  away,"  I  cried,  exultantl}r. 
"  Thank  Heaven,  they  are  whipped !" 

It  was  a  hasty  conclusion,  but  it  turned  out  to 
be  correct.  The  assault  had  failed  at  every 
point.  The  best  fighting  on  the  Southern  side, 
we  subsequently  learned,  had  been  done  by 
Price,  the  one  general  who  had  doubted  the 
wisdom  of  giving  battle.  The  others  had  con- 
tributed no  effective  support,  and  by  nine  o'clock 
the  entire  army  was  in  retreat. 

We  ran  to  the  front  of  the  house,  and  were 


48  THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

soon  able  to  distinguish  the  mass  of  fugitives 
swarming  in  our  direction,  without  order  or 
method,  defiant  of  discipline,  more  like  a  mob 
of  maniacs  than  a  body  of  reasoning  beings.  I 
ordered  the  negroes  to  keep  themselves  carefully 
hidden,  and,  after  closing  all  the  doors,  hurried 
up-stairs  with  Jennie  and  Julius  to  the  garret, 
from  a  window  of  which  we  watched  the  frantic 
throng  as  it  whirled  by. 


VI 

TnE  horror  of  that  scene  passes  description.  I 
have  heard,  and  I  believe,  that  it  is  only  under 
the  strain  of  a  blind  and  senseless  panic  that  hu- 
manity becomes  utterly  degraded,  casts  away  all 
its  noblest  attributes,  and  sinks  to  the  level  of 
the  brute  creation.  The  rabble  that  writhed  and 
fought  and  raved  in  mad  endeavors  to  elude  a 
purely  imaginary  pursuer  was  composed  mainly 
of  brave  men,  yet  no  quality  of  manliness,  far 
less  of  courage,  was  visible  in  the  frenzy  of  its 
furious  flight.  The  sole  impulse  was  to  escape 
at  any  cost,  reckless  of  decency  and  insensible  to 
shame,  from  an  absurdly  fictitious  danger ;  and 
to  compass  this  end,  the  most  hideous  and  re- 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  49 

volting  excesses  were  resorted  to.  In  their  de- 
lirium of  terror  these  half-crazed  beings,  united 
an  hour  before,  by  ties  of  friendship  and  by  de- 
votion to  a  cause  which  they  held  sacred,  were 
guilty  of  atrocities  which  would  have  shamed 
wild  beasts. 

For  half  an  hour  the  disgraceful  rout  continued, 
until  the  greater  part  of  the  army  had  gone  by. 
Their  groundless  fears  had  protected  us  thus  far 
from  intrusion,  and  we  rejoiced  to  believe  that 
we  were  now  free  from  molestation.  We  did 
not  know  that  there  may  often  be  more  mischief 
in  a  single  straggler  than  in  a  host  of  scared  and 
swift-footed  runaways. 

We  descended  to  the  lower  floor,  Jennie  going 
straight  to  the  library,  while  I  went  forth,  taking 
Julius  with  me,  to  find  the  servants  and  set  them 
at  work.  As  I  entered  the  house  again,  I  was 
startled  by  a  succession  of  heavy  knocks  at  the 
front  door.  Bidding  my  brother  keep  silence,  I 
ran  around  to  the  piazza,  where  I  found  a  tall, 
gaunt  man,  evidently  a  cavalry  private  of  the 
retreating  force,  hammering  with  the  butt  end  of 
a  pistol  against  the  panels.  He  glared  at  me 
fiercely,  and  cried  out : 

"  Open  the  door  here  !  What  do  you  mean  by 
keeping  people  out  at  a  time  like  this  2" 

"  Are  you  wounded  V  I  asked. 


50  THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

""Wounded — no.  Hungry  and  thirsty — yes. 
And  tired.     Open,  or  I'll  burst  in,  double  quick." 

"No  need  of  that,"  I  said,  quietly;  and  I  called 
to  Julius  to  take  down  the  fastenings,  which  he 
promptly  did. 

" Whar's  your  whiskey?"  was  the  fellow's  first 
demand,  as  he  strode  into  the  hall,  his  long  sabre 
clashing  noisily  after  him. 

"  I  have  no  whiskey  to  give  you,"  I  replied. 
"  You  can  have  some  coffee  if  your  people  have 
left  any,  and  something  to  eat." 

"  None  of  that !"  he  shouted.  "  Bring  along 
the  whiskey,  or  I'll  soon  find  it." 

"  I've  told  you  there  is  none  for  you." 

He  let  loose  a  blast  of  wild  words,  and  started 
to  explore  the  premises.  After  looking  into  the 
parlor  and  discovering  nothing  to  his  fancy,  he 
pushed  on  towards  the  library. 

"  Don't  go  there !"  I  exclaimed  ;  "  that  room  is 
private." 

"  Aye,  that's  whar  the  liquor  is,"  he  retorted, 
flinging  open  the  door  and  disclosing  a  scene  the 
sight  of  which  sent  a  chill  of  dismay  through  me. 

My  sister  stood  at  the  top  of  a  step-ladder,  fes- 
tooning our  cherished  flag  around  the  picture- 
frame.  She  uttered  a  faint  cry,  and  sprang  to 
the  floor.  The  trooper  cast  his  eyes  savagely 
around  for  what  he  was  in  search  of,  and  did  not 


THE   MIDNIGHT    WAKNING  51 

at  once  recognize  the  Stars  and  Stripes  hanging 
overhead.  Presently,  however,  he  glanced  up- 
ward, and  with  a  yell  of  rage  pointed  to  the  de- 
tested banner. 

"Ho,  that's  the  game,  is  it?  Making  ready 
for  the  Yanks!  Git  up  thar,  gal,  and  haul  it 
down.     Sharp's  the  word !" 

My  sister  looked  at  me  without  stirring  or  ut- 
tering a  sound. 

"  Down  with  it,  I  tell  ye,  or  I'll  set  the  house 
afire." 

"Pay  no  attention  to  him,  Jennie,"  I  said. 
"  Take  Julius  away  and  leave  him  to  me." 

"  Not  a  step,"  he  roared,  as  he  cocked  his  big 
six-shooter  and  flourished  it  threateningly,  "Pull 
down  that  rag  and  fetch  it  to  me." 

"Do  you  come  here  to  show  fight  to  a  girl 
after  running  away  from  Union  wen  ?"  I  sneered 
— very  foolishly,  no  doubt,  as  I  had  no  weapon 
and  was  wholly  in  his  power. 

"  I  fight  with  people  who  fly  that  flag — men, 
women,  and  children ;  and  I  mostly  kill  'em 
when  I  can.  You  stay  whar  you  are,  gal.  This 
young  bantam  shall  do  the  job.  Now,"  he  called 
out  furiously  to  me,  "fetch  it  here,  unless  you 
want  a  bullet  through  your  skull !" 

He  looked  and  spoke  as  if  he  were  in  dead 
earnest,  and  Julius,  who  had   till   now   stood 


52  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

dumb  with  fright,  made  a  spring  towards  the 
hall. 

"  I'll  get  the  boys  in,"  he  gasped,  breathlessly. 

"  Hold  up,  young  'un.  Thar's  a  bullet  for  you, 
too,  if  you  budge  another  inch." 

"  What  shall  I  do,  Lionel  V  cried  my  little 
brother. 

"  Do  nothing,  Jule ;  let  this  man  deal  with  me." 

"  Jes'  so ;  I'll  deal  with  ye.  Up  ye  go,  before 
I  count  three,  or  I'll  scatter  your  brains  over  the 
carpet !" 

He  pointed  the  revolver  straight  at  my  head. 
Jennie  made  a  movement  as  if  she  would  rush 
between  him  and  me,  but  I  put  up  my  hand  to 
check  her.  She  was  as  white  as  a  corpse,  and 
her  whole  body  shook  so  that  she  could  scarcely 
stand. 

"  Shall  I — shall  I  take  it  down  ?"  she  stam- 
mered. 

"  Never  think  of  such  a  thing,"  I  replied,  with 
all  the  energy  I  could  command.  "  Remember 
who  first  hung  it  there." 

"Forgive  me,  Lionel;  it  was  for  you  I  asked." 

A  torrent  of  imprecations  burst  from  the  ruf- 
fian's lips.  "  Take  your  last  chance,"  he  scream- 
ed.    "Now—  Oner 

Julius  began  to  sob  piteously,  and  my  sister 
caught  at  the  desk  to  save  herself  from  falling. 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  53 

"Two!!" 

"  Tell  father,  Jennie — "  I  could  say  no  more, 
for  a  lump  seemed  to  rise  in  my  throat  and 
choke  me.     I  bent  my  head,  and  waited. 

"Three!!!" 

A  crash  and  a  blinding  flame  followed,  but  I 
felt  no  hurt.  A  shriek  from  Jennie  made  me 
look  first  at  her.  She  was  gazing  with  dilated 
eyes  upon  the  assassin,  and  I,  turning  about,  saw 
with  infinite  relief  that  he  was  struggling  in  the 
clutch  of  a  man  taller  and  more  powerfully 
built  than  himself.  It  was  Captain  Fairchild, 
who  had  entered  almost  at  the  instant  the  shot 
was  fired,  barely  in  time  to  strike  the  pistol  aside 
and  save  me  from  a  horrible  death. 

The  soldier,  though  active  and  sinewy,  was  no 
match  for  his  new  antagonist,  who  speedily 
wrenched  the  weapon  from  his  hand,  and  with  a 
blow  in  the  chest  sent  him  staggering  across  the 
room. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  outrage?"  said 
Fairchild.  His  features  were  quivering  with 
wrath. 

"  I  didn't  see  your  uniform,  captain,"  answered 
the  desperado.  "  Took  ye  for  another  of  these 
pison  varmints." 

"  How  dare  you  draw  your  pistol  in  a  private 
dwelling  ?" 


54  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

"  Private  dwelling !  You'll  find  it's  a  nest  of 
white-livered  traitors.  Jest  lift  your  eyes  to 
that  thar  wall." 

The  captain  looked,  and  his  face  darkened. 

"  This  is  a  surprise  to  me,"  he  said,  with  obvi- 
ous displeasure.  "But  it  is  not  a  matter  for  a 
subordinate  to  pass  upon.  Who  made  }tou  judge 
— and  executioner  ?" 

"  You  see,  cap,  it  kind  o'  riled  me  to  think  of 
them  critters  spreadin'  out  that  pesky  banner  to 
curry  favor  with  the  Yanks  jest  after  they've 
got  the  best  of  us,  for  once.  I  ordered  the  boy 
to  haul  it  down,  and  he  refused.  I've  got  no 
marcy  for  a  boy  like  that." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  else  to  his  discredit  ?" 

"  No,"  drawled  the  soldier ;  "  can't  say  I  do — 
not  to  be  sure  of.  Seems  to  me  I've  seen  him 
somewhar  before,  but  I  don't  exactly  fix  him. 
Better  let  me  take  him  in  hand,  cap." 

"  Certainly  not,  sir.  I  shall  do  what  is  neces- 
sary." 

"  Guess  I  must  have  a  finger  in  it,"  persisted 
the  fellow,  insolently.  "  I  reckon  I'm  not  under 
your  orders,  anyway ;  and  I've  set  my  mind  on 
giving  this  wriggling  sarpent  what  he  desarves." 

"  Stand  back,  you  scoundrel,  or  I'll  teach  you 
what  discipline  is,  with  your  own  weapon.  As 
for  you,  young  man,  I  thought  better  of  you 


THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING  55 

than  this.  It's  a  poor  business  to  turn  rene- 
gade when  your  friends  are  in  misfortune,  and 
to  bid  for  your  enemy's  grace  with  false  flat- 
teries." 

At  this  unjust  imputation  Jennie  sprang  val- 
iantly forward. 

"  Captain  Fairchild,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  will 
not  hear  you  accuse  my  brother  so  unfairly,  so 
ungenerously.  You  spoke  of  discipline  a  moment 
ago.  Well,  sir,  we  believe  in  discipline.  There 
is  only  one  authority  that  this  household  is 
bound  to  respect.  We  have  not  waited  till  the 
day  of  your  defeat.  Lionel  is  under  orders  to 
unfold  the  Union  flag  every  Fourth  of  July,  as 
it  always  has  been  unfolded;  and  I  would  not 
own  him  if  he  disobeyed  !" 

"I  should  be  glad  to  accept  your  statement, 
miss,  but  I  know  of  no  authority  that  can  over- 
ride the  laws  of  the  Southern  Confederacy." 

"Then  I  can  tell  you,  sir,  that  my  father's 
children  are  governed  by  his  instructions  alone." 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  captain,  apparently  unde- 
cided whether  to  smile  or  to  be  vexed  at  her 
impetuosity.  "  May  I  ask  who  your  father  is  ? 
You  forget  that  I  have  not  the  honor  to  know 
your  name." 

"  He  is  Colonel  Andrew  Claiborne." 

Fairchild   started   back   as   if   he   had   been 


56  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

struck.  "  Claiborne,  the  Unionist !"  he  cried. 
"  Are  you  telling  me  the  truth  ?" 

"  It  is  ray  habit,  sir,"  answered  Jennie,  loftily. 

"  Yes,  yes ;  pardon  me,  but  this  is  a  shock. 
Who  could  have  foreseen  such  an  extraordinary 
circumstance  ?" 

"  Hold  hard,  captain,"  broke  in  the  lawless 
cavalryman,  who  had  been  eying  me  viciously 
for  some  minutes.  "  I  have  spotted  this  'yar 
young  reptyle  at  last.  I  can  locate  him  now. 
He  went  down  through  our  lines  towards  He- 
lena last  night,  Avhile  I  was  on  picket.  I  let  him 
go  by,  myself.  He  had  the  word  and  a  written 
pass." 

The  captain's  look  of  reproach  and  scorn  stung 
me  beyond  endurance.  "And  I  gave  them  to 
him,"  I  heard  him  mutter,  with  something  that 
sounded  like  a  groan. 

"  We're  in  a  trap  !"  the  trooper  howled.  "  It's 
as  plain  as  daylight.  We  are  surrounded  by  a 
gang  of  spies,  and  this  house  is  their  headquar- 
ters. Look  alive,  cap.  Follow  my  lead,  and  get 
out  of  this  like  lightning." 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING  57 


VII 

He  darted  away  before  he  had  finished  speak- 
ing, but  Fairchild  gave  no  heed  to  the  warning 
or  the  invitation.  He  remained  motionless  for 
a  short  space,  fixing  his  eyes  alternately  upon 
Jennie  and  me.  At  last  he  spoke,  and  what  he 
said  cut  like  a  knife. 

"  It  seems,  young  man,  that  you  rewarded  my 
indulgence  by  a  base  betrayal  of  trust.  It  may 
be  that  we  owe  this  horrible  disaster  to  my  im- 
prudence and  your  deception.  I  don't  doubt 
that  I  should  be  justified  in  taking  your  life,  but 
I  spare  you  because  the  punishment  would  partly 
fall  on  one — on  those  who  cling  to  you  with  af- 
fection ;  and  I  do  not  lift  my  hand  against  wom- 
en and  children.  To  you,  Miss  Claiborne,  I  will 
say  that  though  your  presence  protects  your 
brother  from  the  consequences  of  his  crime,  I  am 
no  longer  under  an  illusion  as  regards  yourself. 
The  esteem  of  an  honest  man  cannot  be  given  to 
a  girl  who  I  know  is  the  sister  of  a  spy,  and  who, 
since  she  does  not  blush  for  his  infamy,  is  per- 
haps herself  a — " 

"  Don't  speak  that  word,"  I  broke  in,  before  he 


58  THE    MIDNIGHT    WAENING 

could  end  his  sentence ;  "  not  to  her.  You'll  re- 
gret it  as  long  as  you  live,  if  you  do.  Call  me 
whatever  you  like,  but  don't  put  any  vile  name 
on  my  sister." 

"  I  am  glad  to  be  anything  that  Lionel  is,"  said 
my  brave  Jennie ;  "  and  what  he  has  done  I 
would  do,  with  all  my  heart  and  soul !" 

The  dear  girl  tried  to  be  firm,  but  the  strain  was 
too  much  for  her,  and  in  the  very  effort  to  hold 
herself  erect  and  defiant  before  the  young  officer, 
she  tottered  and  would  have  fallen  to  the  ground 
if  he  had  not  leaped  forward  and  caught  her, 
fainting,  in  his  arms.  A  single  look  at  her  in- 
sensible face  wrought  a  great  change  in  him. 
There  was  not  a  trace  of  his  haughty  disdain  left, 
as  he  turned  appealingly  to  me. 

"  I  am  a  cowardly  brute  !"  he  cried.  "  What 
shall  I  do?" 

"  She  must  be  taken  to  her  room,"  I  said. 
"  Julius,  come  and  help  me." 

"  Let  me,  let  me,"  pleaded  the  captain.  "  Stay, 
I  am  stronger  than  both  of  you  together.  I  will 
carry  her  alone." 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer  he  lifted  her 
as  easily  as  if  she  had  been  an  infant,  and  was 
half-way  up  the  staircase  before  I  had  clearly 
taken  in  his  purpose. 

He   remembered   where  to  go,  and  when  I 


THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING  59 

reached  Jennie's  chamber  he  had  already  de- 
posited her  in  an  arm-chair,  and  -was  regarding 
her  with  painful  solicitude. 

"  If  I  have  hurt  her,"  he  murmured,  "  I  have 
hurt  myself  a  thousand  times  worse." 

As  if  to  reassure  him,  Jennie  opened  her  eyes 
and  surveyed  us. 

"  It  is  nothing,"  she  whispered ;  "  only  my 
foolish  weakness." 

The  captain  would  have  had  more  to  say  if  he 
had  not  been  interrupted  by  a  loud  bustle  below. 
Footsteps  were  heard  through  the  passages,  doors 
were  opened  and  shut  violently,  and  a  confused 
clamor  of  voices  announced  the  arrival  of  a  con- 
siderable party. 


Yin 

Who  could  they  be,  these  new  and  perhaps 
dangerous  visitors?  As  we  listened  in  anxious 
suspense,  a  cry  rose  distinctly  above  the  tumult. 

"  Claiborne,  Claiborne !  Are  you  anywhere  in 
hearing?" 

The  sound  of  my  name  reassured  me.  "  Here 
am  I !"  I  shouted,  without  reflecting  that  the 
summons  might  come  from  an  enemy  and  not 
from   a   friend.    But   the   immediate    response 


60  THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

showed  that  my  instinct  had  not  led  me 
astray. 

"  Come  on,  boys,  he's  safe,  thank  the  Lord ;" 
and  we  heard  a  scuffle  upon  the  staircase. 

"  Don't  let  any  one  come  here,"  exclaimed 
Jennie ;  "  not  for  the  world !" 

I  saw  my  error  and  sprang  to  obey  her,  but  it 
was  too  late.  A  crowd  of  Union  soldiers  poured 
into  the  room,  headed  by  Itumford,  the  scout, 
who  set  up  a  cheer  of  delight  on  seeing  me. 

"  Hurrah,  boys ;  all's  well  now.  I've  been 
scared  to  death  about  you,  my  lad.  Thought  the 
beggars  had  snaked  you  off  with  them.  It's  a 
comfort  to  set  eyes  on  you.  And,  by  hanky, 
you've  got  a  prisoner,  too !" 

"  No,  no,"  I  protested  ;  "  nothing  of  the  kind. 
This  is—" 

"  This  is  a  rebel  captain,"  said  Kumford  ;  "and 
nothing  else  but  a  prisoner." 

I  did  not  dare  to  look  at  Jennie,  for  I  saw  that 
Fairchild  had  straightened  himself  up  as  stiff  as 
a  ramrod,  and  put  on  the  same  hard  and  con- 
temptuous expression  that  his  face  had  worn  a 
few  minutes  before  in  the  library. 

"  Do  I  understand,"  he  inquired,  addressing 
Kumford  in  a  tone  of  rasping  sarcasm,  "  that  I 
owe  my  capture  to  this  young — Southern — gen- 
tleman ?" 


THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING  61 

"  That's  about  the  size  of  it,"  replied  the  scout, 
with  cheerful  alacrity. 

"  It  isn't  true,"  I  declared,  indignantly.  "  I 
have  no  hand  in  it  at  all." 

"  "Well,  we'll  allow  you  the  credit  of  it,  any- 
how," said  Rumford.  "  I  want  to  make  this 
Fourth  o'  July  a  big  day  for  you,  Claiborne." 

"  You'll  make  it  a  day  of  misery — " 

"  For  the  rebs,"  chuckled  Rumford.  "  We've 
done  that  pretty  well,  already." 

"  But  this  officer—" 

"  Pray  say  no  more,  Mr.  Claiborne,"  said  Fair- 
child,  peremptorily  and  very  coldly.  "I  accept 
the  fortune  of  war,  even  when  the  game  is  un- 
fairly played  against  me.  I  am  a  prisoner,  as 
your  friend  states,  no  matter  by  what  trickery  I 
am  caught.  I  am  at  his  disposal.  All  I  ask  is 
that  he  will  get  me  out  of  this  house  as  quickly 
as  possible." 

I  heard  Jennie  moan  plaintively,  but  this  time 
Captain  Fairchild  gave  no  sign  of  relenting,  and 
seemed  unconscious  that  she  was  near  him. 

"  I  don't  know  that  we  are  bound  to  consult 
your  wishes,"  said  Rumford.  "  We  expect  to  re- 
main here  overnight,  if  young  Claiborne  will 
take  us  in,  and  you  will  have  to  stay  likewise. 
Tomorrow  we'll  rattle  you  back  to  Helena  in 
short  order.     We  want  you  to  go,  too,  Claiborne 


62  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING. 

— you  and  your  folks.  That's  what  I'm  here  for. 
General  Prentiss  strongly  advises  it.  He  sent 
me  with  a  squad  of  horse  to  keep  mischief 
away  from  you  till  you  were  safe  inside  his 
lines." 

"I  don't  know,"  I  answered;  "I  ean't  say. 
My  sister  is  all  worn  out  by  the  agitation  of  last 
night  and  this  morning.  She  may  not  be  well 
enough  to  move." 

"  If  she's  sick,  the  more  reason  why  she  should 
get  out  of  this  ranch.  Beg  pardon,  miss,  for  not 
saluting  you  before.  No  offence,  I  hope ;  in  these 
hot  times  we  often  seem  to  be  rude  when  our  in- 
clinations are  all  the  other  way,  Upon  my  word, 
you  ought  not  to  tarry  here  twenty-four  hours 
longer.  If  you're  not  strong  enough  to  ride,  we'll 
rig  up  a  litter,  and  the  boys  that  you  select  to 
carry  you  down  to  the  river  will  thank  their 
stars  for  the  privilege." 

"  Let  us  talk  about  it  by  -  and  -  by,"  I  said. 
"Just  now  we  will  leave  her  to  get  over  her 
fatigue." 

"  Of  course.  Beg  pardon  again,  miss,  for  plung- 
ing in  here  so  unceremoniously,  but  I  was  in  a 
fever  to  get  on  your  brother's  trail.  Come,  boys, 
we're  in  the  way  here.  As  for  this  prop  and 
pillar  of  the  Confed,  we'll  have  to  put  him  under 
guard.     Or  perhaps  we  can  make  it  easier  for 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  63 

you,  captain,  if  you  give  us  your  parole  not  to 
slip  away." 

"  I  ask  no  favors,  sir,"  replied  Fairchild. 

"Just  as  you  please.  Call  it  a  favor  to  us,  if 
you  like.  You  can  make  it  more  comfortable  for 
everybody,  all  round." 

"  What  is  it  that  you  wish  ?" 

"I  propose  that  you  give  us  your  word,  as  an 
officer  and  a  gentleman,  that  you  will  not  try 
to  escape.  Then  we'll  show  you  every  considera- 
tion we  possibly  can." 

The  captain  pondered,  and  looked  here  and 
there,  undecidedly.  I  caught  his  eye,  and  con- 
trived to  signify,  by  a  rapid  shake  of  my  head, 
that  I  was  emphatically  opposed  to  the  suggest- 
ion. He  appeared  surprised,  but  after  hesitating 
a  moment  longer,  announced  that  he  was  not 
prepared  to  make  the  required  pledge. 

"  I  cannot  afford  to  throw  away  a  chance,"  he 
said.  "No  one  knows  what  will  happen.  Our 
troops  may  rally  and  renew  the  attack.  There 
may  be  a  dozen  parties,  larger  than  yours,  within 
rifle-shot  of  us.  So  long  as  I  see  a  possibility  of 
rescue,  I  will  not  bind  myself." 

Rumf ord  almost  cackled  with  derision.  "  There 
isn't  an  organized  body  a  dozen  strong  between 
this  and  Clarendon,"  he  declared.  "  Every  man- 
jack  of  your  army,  except  a  few  like  yourself,  is 


64  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

on  the  dead  run  for  the  middle  of  the  State. 
They  are  the  fastest  Arkansas  travellers  on  rec- 
ord. But  3^011  shall  suit  yourself.  You  only  put 
us  to  a  little  extra  inconvenience,  and  I  needn't 
remind  you  what  the  penalty  will  be  if  you  make 
the  least  attempt  to  cut  loose." 

The  captain  bowed,  and  it  was  arranged  that 
he  should  be  lodged  in  one  of  the  rooms  on  the 
second  story,  and  a  guard  stationed  at  the  door 
with  orders  to  treat  him  civilly  if  he  kept  quiet, 
but  to  shoot  him  at  the  first  sign  of  intention  to 
break  away.  I  suggested  my  father's  chamber, 
saying  that  it  was  now  unoccupied,  and  could  be 
used  as  a  place  of  confinement  without  incom- 
moding anybody.  I  had,  however,  another  and 
a  very  different  reason  for  making  this  proposal, 
which  I  shall  shortly  take  pleasure  in  explaining. 

This  matter  having  been  disposed  of,  I  went 
below  with  Rumford,  who  told  me  that  several 
officers,  including  possibly  the  general  in  com- 
mand, were  making  ready  to  start  down  the  Mis- 
sissippi as  soon  as  news  should  be  received  of  the 
fall  of  Vicksburg,  which  was  hourly  expected. 
Transportation  was  offered  to  me  and  mine,  and 
it  was  hoped  that  we  would  make  our  prepara- 
tions rapidly  and  report  ourselves  in  Helena  on 
the  morning  of  the  fifth. 

"  You  ought  to  be  there  now,"  added  the  jo- 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNESTG  65 

vial  scout,  "  celebrating  the  Fourth  with  the  boys 
in  blue.  I  suppose  you  have  forgotten  there  is 
such  a  day,  out  in  this  benighted  wilderness." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?"  I  inquired.  "  Come  with 
me,  if  you  please." 

I  led  him  to  the  library,  where  the  flag  still 
hung  over  Washington's  picture. 

"  We  can't  do  much,"  I  said,  pointing  to  it ; 
"  but  you  see  we  haven't  forgotten." 

"  By  hanky,  I  should  say  so !  I  call  this 
plucky,  with  a  drove  of  secesh  savages  tearing 
and  rampaging  past  your  door.  Lucky  none  of 
them  caught  you  at  it." 

"  Why  do  you  always  call  them  savages  ?"  I 
demanded,  having  an  uneasy  impression  that  his 
abuse  was  rather  too  persistent  and  indiscrimi- 
nate. 

"I  don't,  always.  But  it  takes  mighty  little 
to  send  a  badly  whipped  army  stark  mad.  I've 
seen  proof  of  it  more  than  once,  and  on  both 
sides.  Our  own  troops  were  like  a  pack  of  hye- 
nas after  the  first  Bull  Run.  There's  nothing 
to  choose  between  North  and  South,  in  a  panic. 
You  may  thank  your  stars  that  the  Johnnies 
were  in  too  much  of  a  hurry  to  give  you  a  call 
when  they  went  by.  You'd  have  been  in  an  ugly 
fix,  I  can  tell  you." 

It  did  not  suit  my  purpose  to  inform  him  that 


66  THE    MIDNIGHT    WARNING 

we  had  been  in  "an  ugly  fix,-'  nor  how  oppor- 
tunely we  were  befriended.  After  offering  him 
and  his  comrades  the  refreshment  I  had  refused 
to  the  rebel  straggler,  I  went  to  Jennie,  to  con- 
sult Avith  her  about  leaving  home.  But  I  found 
her  full  of  another  subject. 

"  Oh,  Lionel,  what  will  he  think  of  us  ?"  was 
her  first  wail. 

"  Who,  the  scout  ?" 

"  The  scout !"  she  echoed,  curling  her  lips  con- 
temptuously.    "  I  detest  him." 

"Why,  he's  as  good  a  soul  as  ever  was,"  I 
said,  very  much  astonished  at  this  demonstra- 
tion.    "  He  came  on  purpose  to  help  us." 

"  He  has  degraded  us  forever.  Captain  Fair- 
child  believes  we  laid  a  snare  for  him  —  you 
and  I." 

"  ]STo,  Jennie,  he  can't  suppose  that ;  or,  if  he 
does,  he  won't  think  so  long." 

"What  do  you  mean — how  can  you  prevent 
it?" 

"  Nothing  easier ;  you'll  see,  by-and-by." 

"  Tell  me  at  once.  He  saved  your  life,  Lionel ; 
think  of  him  now,  a  prisoner  in  this  house !" 

"  You  leave  me  alone,  Jennie.  Am  I  the  sort 
of  fellow  to  let  a  debt  like  that  go  unpaid? 
Don't  you  ask  too  many  questions,  little  girl." 

But  Jennie's  bright,  even  temper  seemed  to 


THE    MIDNIGHT   WAEN1NG  67 

have  deserted  her  on  this  occasion.  She  sur- 
prised me  more  than  ever  by  bursting  into  tears 
— a  thing  I  had  not  known  her  to  do  in  our  hard- 
est times  of  trial.  I  tried  to  comfort  her,  but  as 
I  could  not  guess  the  cause  of  her  grief,  my  ef- 
forts had  no  satisfactory  result. 

"  Don't  let  this  stain  rest  upon  us,"  she  sobbed. 
"  To  be  called  a — a  spy,  and  by  such  a  man  as 
he  is!" 

"  It  makes  no  difference  what  any  man  calls 
us,  so  long  as  we  have  nothing  to  reproach  our- 
selves for.  Captain  Fairchild  will  change  his 
tune  before  to-morrow  morning." 

"Lionel,  you  shouldn't  speak  of  him  in  that 
tone.     Have  you  no  sense  of  gratitude  ?" 

"  Jennie,  dear,  I  can't  understand  you.  Some- 
thing strange  has  come  over  you.  But  you 
sha'n't  quarrel  with  me ;  I'll  run  away,  sooner." 

And  so  I  did.  Later  in  the  day  I  returned, 
however,  and  persuaded  her  to  make  ready  for 
our  departure  on  the  following  morning.  Then 
I  set  to  work  upon  a  more  difficult  task,  for  the 
successful  performance  of  which  I  felt  that  unus- 
ual tact  and  ingenuity  were  required — more,  per- 
haps, than  I  could  command. 


68  THE   MIDNIGHT    WAENING 


IX 


Taking  a  note-book  and  a  pencil  in  my  hands, 
and  displaying  them  somewhat  conspicuously,  I 
went  to  the  chamber  in  which  Fairchild  was  de- 
tained.    To  the  sentinel  at  the  door  I  said  : 

"  I  don't  want  to  disturb  your  prisoner,  but  I 
have  to  make  a  hasty  inventory  before  we  go.1' 

"  All  right,"  replied  the  soldier.  "  He's  quiet 
enough  ;  you'll  have  no  trouble  with  him." 

I  knocked  at  the  door  and  waited  for  a  re- 
sponse. 

"  Walk  right  in,"  said  the  guard.  "  Make  your 
self  at  home  in  your  own  house." 

I  followed  his  suggestion,  and  closed  the  door 
carefully  behind  me.  The  captain  gave  no  greet- 
ing, but  rose  from  the  chair  in  which  he  was  seat- 
ed and  stared  freezingly  at  me. 

"  Will  you  allow  me  a  few  words,  Captain  Fair- 
child,  in  private  ?"  I  began. 

"  You  have  no  need  to  ask,  sir.  My  permission 
counts  for  nothing,"  he  replied,  as  stiff  and  frigid 
as  an  iceberg. 

It  was  necessary,  I  perceived,  to  approach  him 
very  delicately,  if  I  hoped  to  gain  a  hearing. 


THE   MIDNIGHT    WARNING  69 

"I  appeal  to  your  generosity,  sir,"  I  said. 
"  Will  you  do  me  a  favor  ?" 

"  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  confer  favors,  Mr. 
Claiborne." 

"  You  can  do  all  that  I  desire,  if  you  will  only 
listen  to  me  without  prejudice.  I  ask  it  not 
only  on  my  own  account ;  it  concerns  my  sister, 
as  well." 

"  I  am  at  your  service,"  he  answered,  a  red 
flush  rising  in  his  cheeks. 

"  I  must  be  so  brief,"  I  proceeded,  "  that  I  shall 
trust  you  to  fill  many  gaps  that  I  may  leave. 
Captain  Fairchild,  I  am  the  son  of  a  man  whose 
whole  life  has  been  devoted  to  the  service  of  the 
United  States.  He  has  suffered  much  for  his 
fidelity,  and  has  taught  his  children  that  they 
must  expect  to  suffer  likewise.  While  he  lived 
here  he  allowed  no  Fourth  of  July  to  go  by  with- 
out calling  us  to  witness  his  reverence  for  the 
flag  of  the  Union.  Now  that  he  has  left  us,  I 
try  to  follow  his  example.  The  flag  was  hung 
this  morning  where  he  used  to  hang  it,  without  a 
thought  of  any  good — or  any  harm — it  might 
bring  us.  This  much  I  think  you  can  readily 
understand,  and  credit." 

"  I  accept  your  statement,  sir,  thus  far." 

"My  father  has  never  ceased  to  instruct  me 
that  my  country's  claim  was  always  to  be  first 


70  THE   MIDNIGHT    WAKNING 

considered.  Only  last  evening  I  received  a  letter 
from  him,  charging  me  to  be  steadfast  and  to 
leave  no  duty  unfulfilled.  I  had  heard  your 
generals  boasting  of  the  ease  with  which  their 
overwhelming  force  would  overcome  the  little 
Northern  garrison  at  Helena.  I  believed  that 
the  cause  which  my  father  loves  was  threatened 
with  a  great  danger ;  and  like  a  gleam  of  light 
the  thought  came  to  me  that  I  could  give  a  use- 
ful  warning.  You  know  what  I  did.  AVith  his 
bidding  fresh  in  my  mind  I  could  not  act  other- 
wise. I  cannot  say  whether  the  news  I  carried 
to  the  Union  general  was  valuable  or  worthless. 
At  first  he  took  it  as  if  it  were  of  no  importance ; 
afterwards  he  listened  with  a  good  deal  of  care." 

"  It  was  of  the  highest  importance,"  said  the 
Captain,  despairingly ;  "  and  he  had  it  through 
my  gross  negligence.  I  deserve  to  be  court- 
martialed.  I  would  demand  a  trial  if  I  were  at 
liberty." 

"  I  think  you  are  in  error.  You  gave  me  the 
pass,  it  is  true,  but  I  could  have  obtained  it  from 
some  other  officer  just  as  well.  If  not,  I  should 
have  found  a  way  to  get  through  without  much 
difficulty.  Well,  sir,  you  have  seen  fit  to  call  me 
a  spy.  That  has  a  hard  sound  to  a  Southern 
gentleman's  son.  I  know  very  little  about  mil- 
itary matters,  but  I  have  understood  that  a  spy 


THE    MIDNIGHT    WARNING  71 

was  one  who  went  secretly  into  an  enemy's  camp 
to  get  information  by  any  and  every  means — to 
steal  it  if  no  other  way  would  serve.  I  did  not 
do  that.  Your  plans  were  freely  talked  of  with- 
out an  attempt  at  concealment,  and  I  reported 
them  as  well  as  I  could.  But  I  don't  mean  to 
say  that  I  would  not  have  done  a  good  deal  more. 
As  I  felt  last  night,  and  as  I  feel  now,  I  would  go 
to  almost  any  length  to  carry  out  my  father's 
command.  If  I  have  to  be  called  a  spy  for  it, 
that  can't  be  helped.  I  shall  not  consider  my- 
self humiliated  unless  he  condemns  me.  I  ought 
also  to  make  it  plain  that  the  ride  to  Helena  was 
wholly  my  own  affair.  Neither  my  sister  nor 
my  brother  had  the  slightest  hint  of  my  purpose." 

"  She  said  she  would  have  done  the  same  !"  the 
captain  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  I  believe  she  would,  if  the  task  had  fallen 
to  her.  But,  as  it  happens,  she  was  in  complete 
ignorance  until  this  morning.  And  there  was 
one  thing  which  none  of  us  could  have  foreseen : 
even  if  your  army  was  to  be  defeated,  we  did 
not  dream  that  any  of  the  Northerners  would 
come  so  quickly,  or  so  far,  as  this.  All  through 
it  has  wounded  me,  and  my  sister,  too,  to  think 
that  a  person  who  was  kind  and  courteous  to  us 
had  been  misled.  Jennie  grieved  deeply  about 
it  at  a  time  when  we  had  no  expectation  of  ever 


72  THE   MIDNIGHT    WARNING 

seeing  you  again.  I  ask  you  to  put  yourself  in 
our  place,  and  consider  what  we  must  have  felt 
when  we  saw  that  you  suspected  us  of  setting  a 
trap  for  you  and  scheming  for  your  capture. 
Captain  Fairchild,  I  would  rather  have  been 
shot  by  that  cavalryman  than  be  supposed  ca- 
pable of  such  shameful  treachery." 

I  lost  control  of  my  voice  just  here,  and  stopped 
abruptly.  Presently  the  captain,  in  a  milder 
tone  than  before,  told  me  to  "  go  on." 

"  I  will  go  on  when  I  hear  you  say  that  you 
believe  me." 

"I — I  do  believe  you.  I  am  glad  to  believe 
you.  Give  me  your  hand,  Mr.  Claiborne.  I 
have  been  unjust;  but  at  my  age — I  am  not  so 
very  much  older  than  you,  my  lad  —  and  under 
such  a  trial  as  this  disgraceful  repulse,  a  man's 
judgment  may  get  all  unhinged.  I  have  wronged 
you — and  your  sister." 

"  You  have,  a  little ;  but  the  account  will 
be  square  if  you  do  me  the  favor  I  came  to 
ask."     % 

"  If  there  is  anything  I  can  honorably  do—" 

"No  question  about  that.  I  was  afraid  you 
would  give  your  parole  when  liumford  proposed 
it,  and  in  that  event  it  would  have  been  incon- 
venient. Now  you  have  simply  to  wait  quietly 
till  night  comes,  and  then  let  me  have  the  satis- 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WAENING  73 

faction  of  seeing  you  off  in  safety,  and  saying 
good-bye  like  a  friend." 

It  was  now  the  captain's  turn  to  experience  a 
slight  difficulty  in  speaking;  but  he  soon  recov- 
ered himself,  and  said : 

"  Are  you  entirely  in  earnest,  Mr.  Claiborne  ?" 

"  Never  more  in  earnest  in  my  life." 

"What  will  be  the  consequences  to  you?" 

"We  haven't  time  to  discuss  them.  They 
can't  be  very  serious,  anyway." 

"  I  am  not  sure  of  that.  I  must  not  take  ad- 
vantage of  your  youth  and  inexperience." 

"  It's  your  only  way  to  prove  that  you  no  lon- 
ger misjudge  us." 

"  If  that  is  the  case,  I —  Would  your  sister 
say  the  same  ?" 

"Certainly  she  would.  Jennie  and  I  are  twins. 
I  know  everything  that  passes  in  her  mind." 

I  am  now  aware  that  this  was  very  far  from 
the  truth;  but  I  said  it  in  perfect  good  faith, 
and  I  really  believe  the  statement  would  have 
been  fairly  correct  twenty -four  hours  before. 
Strange  things  had  happened  to  us  since  the 
previous  evening.  I  had  grown  to  be  a  tolerable 
makeshift  for  a  man,  and  Jennie— if  Jennie  had 
not  absolutely  blossomed  into  a  full-grown  wom- 
an, she  was  so  far  on  the  way  as  to  have  put 
aside  the  transparent  frankness  of  girlhood  and 


74  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

begun  the  cultivation  of  secrets  all  by  herself, 
without  assistance  from  her  brother. 

"  I  should  like  to  be  convinced  that  you  are 
right,"  said  Fairchild,  dubiously.  "Will  you 
take  a  line  from  me  to  Miss  Claiborne  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  if  you  wish ;"  but  I  thought  it  a.  fla- 
grant squandering  of  time,  nevertheless,  and  won- 
dered that  a  practical  man  should  fret  himself 
about  insignificant  trifles. 

He  took  my  note-book  and  pencil,  and  scrib- 
bled to  an  extent  that  spoke  ill,  I  inferred,  for 
his  faculty  of  concise  expression.  Being  remind- 
ed that  we  might  be  interrupted,  he  ceased  sud- 
denly, tore  out  half  a  dozen  pages,  and  handed 
them  to  me  with  the  announcement  that  his 
course  of  action  would  be  determined  by  the  an- 
swer he  should  receive. 

As  I  had  no  doubt  what  this  would  be,  I  pro- 
ceeded without  delay  to  prepare  my  plans,  and 
hurried  to  the  servants'  quarters  in  search  of 
Ptolemy,  intrusting  the  note  to  Julius's  care  as  I 
went  out,  and  telling  him  to  deliver  it  privately 
to  Jennie. 

The  old  negro  was  sitting  in  the  doorway  of 
his  cabin,  meditating  over  the  recent  stirring 
events,  and  looking  forty  times  as  wise  as  any 
judge  that  ever  sat  in  our  circuit. 

"  I  want  you  to  brush  up  all  your  smartness, 


THE   MIDNIGHT    WAKNING  75 

Ptol,"  I  said.  "I  have  something  very  impor- 
tant for  you  to  do." 

"  Sholy,  Mars'  Liny,  sholy,"  he  replied,  with 
immense  gravity. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  there  is  a  prisoner  in 
the  house." 

"  Mighty  glad  to  hear  it,  Mars'  Liny." 

"  Well,  wait  a  minute.  This  gentleman  is  a 
friend  of  mine  and  Miss  Jennie's.  He  ought 
not  to  be  a  prisoner." 

"  Co'se  not ;  stands  to  reason." 

"  He  mustn't  coine  to  any  harm  here,  Ptol." 

"  Dat  he  sha'n't ;  nobody  ain't  goin'  to  trouble 
a  hair  on  his  head." 

"  Keep  still  and  hear  me.  "We  must  get  him 
off  the  plantation  this  night." 

"  I'll  'tend  to  it,  Mars'  Liny." 

"  Can  you  really,  Ptol  V  I  was  taken  aback 
by  this  prompt  acquiescence,  and  feared  the  old 
man  had  been  dazed  by  the  occurrences  of  the 
past  twenty-four  hours  and  did  not  comprehend 
what  I  was  talking  about. 

"Easy  as  winkin',  Mars'  Liny.  "Whar  is  he 
now  2" 

"  In  father's  room." 

"  Firs'  rate.  You  let  him  out  de  side  do',  an' 
I'll  put  him  whar  nobody  can't  find  him." 

"  But  how  will  you  manage  it  ?" 


76  THE   MIDNIGHT  WARNING 

"  Don'  I  tole  you  I'll  'tend  to  it  ?"  said  Ptol- 
emy, with  unspeakable  dignity.  "  You  jes'  leave 
him  to  me." 

"  See  here,  Ptol ;  this  is  not  a  thing  to  joke 
about.  It's  a  matter  of  life  and  death.  This 
gentleman  must  get  clear  without  a  scratch." 

"  Hain't  made  a  joke  for  fifty  year,  old  Ptol 
hain't.  Press  your  soul,  honey,  don'  I  see  you're 
all  of  a  fidget  ?  Ease  your  mind,  chile ;  I'll  git 
your  frien'  out  safe  an'  sound.  'Tain't  de  fust 
time." 

"  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean,  but  I  tell 
you  it  would  be  a  disgrace  to  us  all  if  I  failed  to 
set  him  free.     Why,  I  owe  him  my  life,  Ptol." 

';  Say  no  mo',  Mars'  Liny.  I'd  give  mine,  an' 
welcome,  to  pay  him  for  dat.  But  it's  as  easy — 
you  don'  know  how  easy  'tis.  If  I  don'  run  him 
clean  off  de  plantation  to-night,  I  hide  him  whar 
no  white  man  can  follow,  till  de  coast's  clar." 

"  It  sounds  almost  too  good  to  be  true." 

"  Sho !  Don'  you  mind  when  Major  Brindal's 
boy  Walter  done  run  away?  Nobody  never 
found  him.  We  kep'  him  snug,  not  five  minutes' 
walk  from  here,  till  de  time  come — " 

"  Go  ahead,  Ptol." 

"Tole  you  by-'m-by  about  dat,  Mars'  Liny. 
You  trust  me.  Your  fader  wouldn't  neber  make 
old  Ptol  gib  his  word  twice  ober." 


THE   MIDNIGHT    WAKNING  77 

"  I  will  trust  you,  and  be  grateful  for  your 
help." 

"Dat's  right,  honey.  What  time  you  want 
me  at  de  side  do'  ?" 

"At  midnight,  unless  I  send  word  otherwise 
by  Julius.  Do  you  care  to  hear  anything  more 
about  this  gentleman  ?" 

"  No,  sar.  If  he's  your  frien'  and  Miss  Jennie's 
frien',  au'  if  he  stood  to  keep  danger  from  my 
old  marster's  son,  dat's  'nough  for  me.  Hab  no 
fear;  no  trouble  sha'n't  go  near  him,  true  as  I 
live  and  breave.  I  wouldn't  say  so  if  I  couldn't 
do  so." 

I  was  much  better  satisfied  with  his  manner 
than  I  had  been  at  the  beginning  of  the  inter- 
view, but  in  fact  I  need  not  have  given  myself 
the  least  anxiety  at  any  moment.  The  old  man, 
like  many  of  his  class  whose  defensive  instincts 
have  been  sharpened  by  dire  necessity,  was  as 
cunning  and  crafty  as  a  fox ;  and  like  most  of 
his  race  when  their  affection  has  been  gained  by 
kindness,  was  true  as  steel  to  those  he  served. 
But  he  felt  himself  a  personage  of  consequence 
in  the  household,  and  as  my  father  had  always 
humored  his  pretensions  he  was  not  disposed  to 
tolerate  any  diminution  of  his  importance  at  the 
hands  of  a  youngster  like  myself. 

It  was  now  desirable  to  report  progress  to 


78  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

Jennie,  whose  gracious  humor  I  hoped  to  restore 
completely  by  the  news  I  had  to  impart.  I  found 
my  sister  in  her  room,  seated  at  a  table  on  which 
a  dozen  or  more  freshly  written  sheets  were  scat- 
tered, to  which  she  was  adding  with  industrious 
rapidity. 

"  Ah,  Jennie,  drawing  up  a  detailed  account  of 
transactions  for  father?     Good  girl." 

"  No,  not  exactly,"  she  answered,  less  blithely 
than  usual,  it  seemed.  "  Captain  Fairchild  has 
asked  me  for  my  opinion  on  certain  matters,  and 
I—" 

"  Good  gracious !  There's  no  occasion  to  del- 
uge the  man.  Better  let  me  carry  him  a 
message." 

"  I  don't  think  that  would  do,  Lionel.  He 
seems  undecided  as  to  how  he  ought  to  act,  and 
under  the  circumstances  I  can't  refuse  to  give 
my  advice." 

"  Oh,  I  say !  My  sixteen-year-old  sister  advis- 
ing a  man  old  enough  to  be  her  father,  and  an 
officer  in  the  Southern  army." 

"  Sixteen !  You  know  better,  sir.  Seventeen 
next  month.  And  he  isn't  old  enough  to  be 
my —    He's  only  twenty-three." 

"  How  on  earth  did  you  learn  that  ?" 

"  He — he  says  so — in  his  letter." 

"Upon   my  word,  young  woman,  this   is  a 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING  79 

precious  state  of  things.  What  have  you  to  do 
with  the  man's  age  ?" 

"Don't  be  unkind,  Lionel,  after  behaving  so 
splendidly — making  it  all  up  with  the  captain, 
and  offering  to  get  him  away.  Think  of  what 
he  did  for  you,  and — and  he  hasn't  any  parents 
— and  he's  dreadfully  sensitive  about  his  con- 
science— he  fears  it  will  make  trouble  for  me — 
for  us — if  you  assist  him  to  escape — and  it  would 
almost  kill  me  to  have  him  dragged  off  to  prison 
from  our  house — so  how  can  you  be  so  heartless, 
Lionel?" 

"  Why,  I  haven't  said  a  thing,"  I  protested,  in 
amazement.  But  though  I  had  been,  I  admit, 
pretty  stupid  thus  far,  I  could  hardly  fail  to  be 
enlightened  by  the  rosy  streaks  that  now  came 
and  went  on  my  sister's  face ;  by  her  tearful  eyes, 
and  by  the  eager  impetuosity  of  her  speech.  I 
did  not  much  like  the  look  of  it,  but  there  was 
no  time  for  remonstrance  or  dissuasion,  and  so 
far  as  I  could  hastily  judge,  the  best  course  was 
to  send  Fairchild  out  of  reach  as  quickly  as 
possible. 

"  Lionel,  I  want  to  convince  him  that  he  ought 
to  go." 

"  So  do  I,  Jen ;  we're  of  the  same  mind  there. 
Give  me  your  treatise  on  the  whole  duty  of  a 
young  Confederate  captain,  twenty -three  years 


80  THE    MIDNIGHT    WARNING 

of  age,  and  an  orphan  in  captivity  with  a  trouble- 
some conscience." 

"  I  never  knew  you  to  be  downright  unfeeling 
before !"  she  exclaimed,  reproachfully.  "  It  isn't 
like  you  a  bit." 

"  Don't  worry,  child  ;  it's  all  right.  Give  me 
the  brief  epistle,  if  you  like  that  better." 

"  It — I  haven't — it  isn't  finished  yet,"  she  mur- 
mured, her  cheeks  getting  ruddier  than  ever. 

"  Mercy  sake !  Are  you  going  to  make  a  se- 
rial of  it  ?  He'll  never  be  able  to  wade  through 
that  ocean  of  literature  between  now  and  mid- 
night." 

"  I  must  add  one  word  more — only  one.  Sit 
down  a  minute,  dear." 

"  Look  here,  Jennie ;  I  don't  know  much  about 
girls — that  is,  girls  who  are  going  to  be  seven- 
teen next  month — but  I  know  enough  to  guess 
what  their  '  one  word '  means  at  the  end  of  a 
letter.  It's  generally  a  word  of  about  10,000 
syllables.  So  I  won't  sit  down,  if  you'll  excuse 
me.  It  will  be  better,  after  all,  if  I  don't  see 
Fairchild  until  late  in  the  evening.  I'll  leave  you 
to  put  in  that  word  at  your  leisure — mind  you 
spell  it  right — and  I'll  come  with  a  valise  for 
your  mail  after  supper." 

"  You  are  a  monster,  and  the  plague  of  my 
life !"  she  cried,  with  as  fierce  an  accent  as  she 


THE    MIDNIGHT    WARNING  81 

could  put  on.  Then  she  came  at  me  and  kissed 
me  an  inconvenient  number  of  times,  and  wound 
up  by  making  a  defiant  face  at  me  as  I  shook 
myself  free  and  skipped  out  of  the  room. 


At  eleven  o'clock,  having  seen  Ptolemy  in  the 
interval  and  settled  all  preliminaries,  I  again  pre- 
sented myself  at  the  door  of  my  father's  room. 

"  Prisoner  asleep  ?"  I  asked  the  sentry. 

"  Guess  not ;  heard  him  tramping  around  a 
while  ago." 

';  I'll  have  to  go  in,  anyway,"  said  I ;  and  a 
moment  later  I  was  alone  with  the  captain,  who 
appeared  more  impatient  to  get  the  reply  from 
Jennie  than  to  listen  to  my  scheme  for  his  lib- 
eration. 

"  The  foolish  girl  has  covered  a  ream  of  paper 
to  say  what  might  have  been  told  in  two  words," 
I  remarked. 

He  looked  as  if  he  wanted  to  resent  my  pre- 
sumption in  criticising  my  own  sister,  but  made 
no  verbal  comment,  and  straightway  devoted 
himself  to  the  bulky  missive  which  I  delivered 

over. 

c 


82  THE   MIDNIGHT    WARNING 

"  If  you  try  to  take  in  all  that  you'll  lose  your 
chance,"  I  warned  him.  "  She's  determined  that 
you  shall  go ;  that's  the  main  point." 

"  Yes,  I  see  that,"  he  answered ;  "  and  yet — " 

"  There's  no  '  yet '  in  the  question,  captain. 
Jennie  vows  that  she  wishes  never  to  set  eyes  on 
you  hereafter  if  you  refuse  to  follow  our  coun- 
sel." 

She  had  not  vowed  anything  of  the  sort ;  but  I 
had  found  a  way  to  overrule  his  obstinacy,  and 
proposed  to  take  full  advantage  of  the  discovery. 

"  Then  I  suppose  I  must  consent,"  he  said. 

"  Precisely  ;  and  now  you  will  be  good  enough 
to  let  me  direct  things.  Put  up  your  letter,  and 
oblige  me  by  lying  down  on  the  bed  with  your 
face  to  the  wall." 

"  Since  I  conclude  to  yield,  I  may  as  well  yield 
without  reservation,"  he  said,  stretching  himself 
out  as  I  desired. 

I  gathered  together  a  few  of  father's  effects 
which  I  really  needed  to  carry  away  with  me, 
and  then  opened  the  door  softly  and  called  the 
guard. 

"Can  you  give  me  a  lift  with  a  trunk?"  I 
asked.  "  Come  in  gently ;  if  your  man  is  tired, 
let  him  have  a  rest." 

I  pointed  to  the  reclining  figure,  and  the  sol- 
dier silently  nodded  assent.     Leading  him  to  a 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  83 

closet,  I  went  through  the  form  of  getting  out  a 
big  portmanteau  with  his  aid. 

"  Anything  else  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Nothing  more,  thank  you." 

"  How  long  are  you  going  to  stay  here  ?"  he 
continued,  dropping  his  tone  to  a  whisper. 

"  Half  an  hour  or  so." 

"  It's  dry  work  mounting  guard  in  this  dismal 
hall.  Could  you  keep  your  eye  on  him  while  I 
go  below  and  freshen  up?     I  won't  be  long." 

"  Go,  by  all  means.  Take  your  own  time. 
Likely  as  not  he  won't  know  you've  left  your 
post." 

"  Good  enough ;  take  my  revolver  ?" 

"  No ;  better  lock  the  door  until  you  come 
back.  Or,  wait ;  I'll  lock  it  on  the  inside  and 
pocket  the  key.  When  I  hear  you  tap  outside, 
I'll  open.  Don't  hurry;  everything  will  be  safe 
here." 

He  started  off  in  high  good-humor,  and  I,  de- 
lighted at  this  unlooked-for  piece  of  luck,  made 
the  door  fast,  and  told  the  captain  to  jump  up 
and  get  to  work. 

"  Pull  off  that  uniform  as  fast  as  you  can,"  I 
said,  "and  get  into  this  suit  of  my  father's 
clothes." 

"What  for?" 

"  Don't  ask ;  you'll  see  soon  enough." 


84  THE   MIDNIGHT    WARNING 

"  I  don't  like  this,  Claiborne." 

"  Bless  us,  we  can't  go  over  the  whole  argu- 
ment again.  Jennie  will  be  wild  if  she  hears 
that  you  disputed  her  arrangement." 

"  Oh,  if  it's  her  arrangement — "  That  was  all 
he  said,  but  he  became  quite  humble  and  docile, 
and  proceeded  to  array  himself  in  a  shooting- 
jacket  and  corduroy  trousers  several  sizes  too 
large  for  him.  While  he  did  this,  I  stuffed  his 
uniform  with  various  loose  garments  which  I 
rolled  up  for  the  purpose,  and,  placing  it  on  the 
bed,  moulded  it  into  a  pretty  close  and  accurate 
resemblance  to  the  human  form.  In  the  dimly- 
lighted  room  the  imitation  was  sufficiently  good 
to  convey  the  impression  that  the  captain  was 
still  lying  there,  sound  asleep. 

Fairchild  smiled  as  he  inspected  my  handiwork, 
but  not  very  cheerfully. 

"  I  don't  like  it,"  he  repeated,  shaking  his  head. 

"  It  doesn't  matter  whether  you  like  it  or  not," 
I  said,  with  intentional  snappishness.  "Jennie 
likes  it,  and  that's  enough." 

"  True,"  he  assented,  submissively ;  and  he  of- 
fered no  further  objection. 

I  then  explained  my  reason  for  having  pro- 
posed that  he  be  lodged  in  this  particular  room, 
which  was  that  my  father  had  long  ago  caused 
a  rough  staircase  to  be  built  for  his  private  use, 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING  85 

leading  from  a  large  closet,  or  dark  anteroom,  to 
the  garden  at  the  rear  of  the  dwelling.  This  was 
to  enable  him  to  go  in  and  out  at  early  or  late 
hours  without  arousing  others  of  the  family  by 
passing  through  the  house. 

"  That  fellow's  thirst  was  a  godsend  to  us,"  I 
said.  "  Wait  you  here,  captain,  while  I  run  down 
and  see  if  the  coast  is  clear." 

Ptolemy  was  lounging  about  the  side  door,  ac- 
cording to  agreement.  I  gave  notice  that  in  less 
than  five  minutes  our  guest  would  join  him,  and 
delivered  this  final  charge  : 

"Remember,  Ptol,  you  have  not  only  his  safe- 
ty, but  our  honor,  in  your  care." 

"Make  your  mind  easy,  Mars'  Liny,"  he  re- 
plied. "  Your  f rien'  shall  be  five  mile  away  by 
to-morrow  mornin',  if  he  likes.  Dere"s  nothin'  in 
de  world  I  wouldn't  do  to  please  you,  and  dis — 
why  dis  is  easier'n  go  a-fishin'.  Ask  me  to  do 
somefin'  hard,  if  you  want  to  make  Old  Ptol 
happy." 

"  It  is  enough,  Ptol.  Do  this  job  well,  and  I'll 
never  forget  it.     Nor  Avill  Jennie." 

Returning  to  Fairchild,  I  explained  that  he 
must  now  put  himself  under  the  old  negro's  lead. 

"I  would  gladly  go  with  you,"  I  told  him,  "  and 
see  you  off  the  plantation,  if  it  were  not  too 
great  a  risk.   I  must  be  on  hand  here,  you  under- 


86  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

stand,  to  "ward  off  suspicion.  Ptolemy  knows  the 
byways  hereabout  better  than  I  do — or  anybody 
else ;  and  he  has  secret  avenues  of  his  own, 
through  which  nobody  can  track  him." 

"Who  is  Ptolemy?" 

"  One  of  our  oldest  servants.  There's  not  a 
man  on  the  plantation  more  intelligent ;  and  not 
a  dog  more  devoted  and  faithful." 

"  Then  good-bye,  Claiborne.  Take  my  farewell 
to  your  sister,  and  my  grateful  regards.  Tell  her 
that  her  letter  will  be  a  solace  to  me,  and  that  I 
shall  claim  the  privilege  of  answering  it,  even  if 
I  have  to  wait  long  for  the  opportunity.  Tell 
her — " 

"  If  I  tell  her  how  you  kept  on  talking  idly 
when  you  ought  to  have  been  half-way  across 
the  fields,  she'll  think  it's  your  senses  you  meant 
to  take  leave  of,  not  her." 

I  was  rough,  perhaps,  but  there  was  positively 
no  way  to  manage  him  except  by  holding  up 
Jennie  as  an  object  of  terror,  and  threatening 
him  with  her  displeasure.  The  idea  that  a  fellow 
of  his  size  and  training  could  be  scared  out  of  his 
wits  by  the  fear  of  a  girl's  frown  struck  me  as 
the  most  delicious  absurdity  I  had  ever  heard  of. 
I'm  older  now.  It's  a  good  many  years  since  I 
left  off  laughing  at  Fairchild. 

He  grasped  my  hand,  and,  saying  not  another 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING  87 

word,  went  down  into  the  darkness  of  the  night. 
I  resumed  my  labors,  and  in  about  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  heard  the  guard  returning  through  the 
hallway.  He  rapped  lightly,  and  I  unclosed  the 
door,  indicating  by  a  gesture  that  I  did  not  care 
to  talk,  and  leading  him  to  suppose  that  the  pris- 
oner was  fast  asleep. 

A  little  later,  just  before  midnight,  I  looked  in 
upon  Jennie,  and  satisfied  a  part  of  her  curiosity 
with  respect  to  the  captain's  escape,  which  I  re- 
garded as  having  been  accomplished  beyond  all 
doubt.  I  say  "  a  part  of  her  curiosity,"  because 
if  I  had  answered  all  her  questions  she  would 
have  tied  me  to  the  subject  till  sunrise.  She 
was  sensible  enough  when  I  shifted  her  around 
to  reasonable  topics,  and,  chatting  comfortably 
together,  we  "saw  out"  the  most  exciting  and 
momentous  day  of  our  lives — the  never-to-be-for- 
gotten Fourth  of  July  of  1863. 


XI 

I  slept  quietly  after  the  long  course  of  fatigue 
I  had  gone  through  until  the  following  dawn, 
when  an  exceedingly  turbulent  dream  took  pos- 
session of  me.     I  imagined  that  our  house  was 


88  THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

surrounded  by  batteries  of  artillery,  and  that  a 
tremendous  cannonade  had  been  opened  upon  it 
from  all  sides.  At  the  same  time  a  mass  of  as- 
sailants burst  in  through  doors  and  windows, 
filling:  the  interior  with  a  din  of  clashing  arms 
and  fierce  outcries.  I  opened  my  eyes  and  shook 
myself,  but  the  illusion  was  not  immediately  dis- 
pelled. An  extraordinary  clatter  was  certainly 
going  on  all  over  the  place.  In  the  midst  of  it 
my  door  was  thrown  open,  and  Rumford  ap- 
peared in  a  state  of  high  exasperation. 

"  That  rebel  jackanapes  has  given  us  the  slip!" 
he  cried.  "  Get  up,  Claiborne,  and  see  if  you  can 
put  us  on  his  scent." 

While  I  rose  and  dressed  he  told  me  that  the 
sentinel  had  kept  good  watch  during  the  night, 
and  found  nothing  to  make  him  uneasy.  Ev- 
ery fifteen  minutes  or  so  he  had  looked  into  the 
room  where  the  prisoner  was  confined,  and  be- 
lieved that  he  saw  him  always  in  the  same  po- 
sition on  the  bed ;  but  when  the  early  sunlight 
came  through  the  windows  he  noticed  some- 
thing unnatural  about  the  figure,  and  on  exami- 
nation discovered  it  to  be  a  "  dummy."  But  the 
method  of  escape  could  not  be  conjectured.  In 
spite  of  the  heat,  the  windows  had  been  bolted, 
and  they  still  remained  fastened.  In  any  case, 
they  were  too  high  from  the  ground  to  tempt 


THE   MIDNIGHT   "WARNING  89 

even  a  desperate  man  to  jump  from  them.  The 
only  doors,  except  that  which  gave  admission 
from  the  hall,  opened  into  dark  closets.  A  thor- 
ough search  had  been  ordered,  and  my  assist- 
ance was  needed,  first  to  furnish  a  minute  de- 
scription of  the  premises,  and  next  to  point  out 
the  spots  in  which  a  fugitive  might  be  likely  to 
conceal  himself. 

On  going  below,  I  found  the  whole  party  of 
visitors  in  the  utmost  confusion.  Jennie  was 
walking  about  unconcernedly,  now  and  then  ex- 
changing a  word  with  the  servants,  all  of  whom 
had  been  summoned  to  supply  information.  Her 
manner  went  far  to  relieve  me  from  apprehen- 
sion, and  a  glance  at  old  Ptolemy's  face  satisfied 
me  that  he  had  done  his  work  effectively. 

The  small  side  door  under  father's  windows 
was  soon  detected,  and  Rumford  inquired  with 
what  part  of  the  house  it  communicated.  I  told 
him,  without  hesitation  or  reserve. 

"  "Why  didn't  you  remember  the  private  pas- 
sage when  the  prisoner  was  taken  to  that  room?" 
he  demanded. 

I  made  no  answer. 

"  Now  I  think  of  it,"  he  continued,  "  it  was 
you  who  suggested  quartering  him  there." 

I  was  still  silent. 

"  Mr.  Claiborne,"  exclaimed  the  scout,  explod- 


90  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

ing  suddenly,  "  do  you  know  anything  about  this 
business  ?" 

I  had,  from  the  first,  intended  to  acknowledge 
my  share  in  the  transaction,  and  as  I  felt  confi- 
dent that  Fairchild  was  in  safety,  I  saw  no  rea- 
son for  delaying  the  avowal. 

"  I  know  all  about  it,"  I  announced. 

"  Then  it  was  you  who  outwitted  us  and  set 
him  free !"  cried  Rumford,  while  his  companions 
in  arms  gave  vent  to  their  indignation  by  angry 
murmurs. 

"  There's  no  occasion  to  make  a  disturbance," 
I  said.  "  I  don't  propose  to  deny  what  I  have 
done.  Captain  Fairchild  is  out  of  your  reach, 
that's  certain.  I  shall  tell  the  whole  story  to 
your  commanding  general,  and  take  the  conse- 
quences, whatever  they  may  be." 

"  Mighty  fine  talk !  It's  a  toss-up  whether  we 
ever  see  the  general  again.  Ten  to  one  your 
rebel  runaway  will  gather  together  a  lot  of  his 
riffraff  and  try  to  cut  us  off.  He  knows  how  few 
wre  are,  and  can  find  plenty  to  join  him  in  a  raid 
for  revenge." 

"  He's  not  that  sort  of  man.  I'll  answer  for 
him." 

"  Your  guarantee  don't  satisfy  me,  young 
man." 

"  Take  mine,  then  !"  exclaimed  Jennie,  coming 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  91 

forward  heroically  and  confronting  the  scout.. 
"  I  know  that  Captain  Fairchild  is  incapable  of 
a  mean  or  unmanly  action." 

I  declare  I  was  not  the  least  astonished  of 
those  who  witnessed  the  little  girl's  valorous 
demonstration.  "Little  girl"  do  I  say?  She 
seemed  to  look  down  on  every  one  around  her, 
though  most  of  the  army  boys  were  strapping 
fellows.  And  how  handsome  she  was,  while  the 
fire  blazed  in  her  eyes  and  the  blood  reddened 
her  cheeks !  Jennie  was  getting  altogether  be- 
yond me  ;  there  could  be  no  question  about  that. 

Kumford  gazed  at  her  with  a  little  amusement 
and  a  good  deal  of  admiration. 

"  Oho !"  he  chuckled,  grinning  all  over  his 
weather-beaten  countenance;  "  that's  how  the 
land  lies."  And,  simple  as  the  remark  was,  it 
sent  my  poor  sister's  magnificent  bravery  flying, 
and  wilted  her  down  in  an  instant  from  a  creature 
of  majestic  stature  and  spirit  to  the  ordinary  level 
of  her  sex.  Just  for  a  second,  indeed,  she  had 
rather  the  aspect  of  a  timorous  child  than  of  any- 
thing more  exalted. 

But  the  scout  was  as  good-hearted  a  fellow  as 
ever  breathed,  and  would  not  have  wounded  her 
sensitiveness  for  the  world.  Pretending  not  to 
notice  her  discomfiture,  he  said : 

"Very  good,  miss;  it's  all  right.     I'll  accept 


92  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

your  guarantee.  I  didn't  know  he  was  an  old 
friend  of  yours." 

Hereupon  Jennie  blushed  more  than  ever,  and 
I  had  to  sniggle  by  myself  at  the  notion  of  an 
"  old  friend  "  whom  we  had  never  seen  or  heard 
of  thirty-six  hours  before.  Rumford  kept  quite 
a  solemn  face,  however,  and  said  he  was  very 
glad  to  learn  that  the  young  Southerner  was 
one  of  the  right  sort  and  a  man  to  be  depended 
upon. 

"  But,  for  all  that,  Ave  may  as  well  get  started 
the  first  thing  after  breakfast,"  he  remarked. 
"  Our  communications  with  headquarters  are  a 
little  irregular,  and  the  sooner  we  are  there  the 
better." 

Before  leaving,  Jennie  and  I  had  to  go  through 
a  sad  scene  with  the  servants.  Ptolemy  had 
guessed  that  the  separation  was  coming,  and 
controlled  himself  tolerably  well.  But  his  wife, 
Aunt  Tilly,  broke  down  completely  at  parting 
from  the  children  whom  she  had  nursed  in  their 
infancy,  and  whom  she  loved  with  all  the  tender- 
ness of  her  simple  and  kindly  nature.  It  was 
hastily  decided  that  our  little  following  of  ne- 
groes, a  dozen  altogether,  should  remain  on  the 
estate  under  Ptolemy's  leadership,  and  care  for 
themselves  until  we  could  resume  possession.  If, 
however,  the  temper  of  the  neighborhood  should 


THE    MIDNIGHT    WARNING  93 

render  that  impossible,  they  "were  to  go  in  a  body 
to  the  camp  at  Helena,  where — so  Rumford  as- 
sured us — they  would  be  properly  cared  for,  and 
given  the  means  of  earning  their  livelihood. 

We  left  our  home  in  sorrow  and  dejection, 
scarcely  daring  to  hope  that  we  should  ever  see 
it  again,  notwithstanding  the  confident  expecta- 
tion we  had  held  out  to  the  negroes.  But  we 
were  sustained  and  cheered  by  the  prospect  of 
being  reunited  to  our  father.  I  could  not  believe 
that  this  happiness  would  be  denied  to  any  of  us. 
It  was  impossible  to  doubt  that  I  should  suffer 
punishment,  and  probably  a  severe  one,  for  my 
complicity  in  FairchikTs  flight,  but  at  least  I 
should  have  the  privilege  of  a  parent's  support 
and  protection  in  the  trial  that  awaited  me. 

On  arriving  at  Helena  I  at  once  solicited  an 
interview  with  the  general  in  command,  but  was 
informed  that  he  was  too  busy  rejoicing  over  the 
great  news  from  Vicksburg  to  give  immediate 
consideration  to  my  insignificant  affairs.  The 
great  news  was  the  surrender  of  Pemberton, 
which  had  taken  place  almost  simultaneously 
with  the  defeat  of  Holmes,  on  the  morning  of 
the  Fourth.  The  meeting  I  asked  for  was  de- 
ferred till  evening,  and  I  then  found  that  the 
general  had  already  been  informed  of  what  had 
occurred  at  my  home. 


94  THE   MIDNIGHT   WAKNING 

"Eumford  has  given  me  an  outline,"  he  said; 
"  but  if  you  wish  to  be  more  explicit  I  will  listen 
to  you." 

I  told  him  everything,  making  no  effort  to  put 
myself  in  too  favorable  a  light,  and  declaring  my 
readiness  to  accept  whatever  penalty  might  be 
awarded.  But  I  expressed  a  very  earnest  desire 
that  this  should  not  be  of  a  kind  to  prevent  our 
family  from  coming  together  again. 

"  You  recognize  that  you  were  guilty  of  a  seri- 
ous offence,"  said  the  general,  in  a  way  which 
puzzled  me  extremely. 

"  I  do,  sir." 

"  Of  course  you  would  not  think  of  repeating 
it,  under  any  circumstances  2" 

To  this  I  made  no  reply.  How  could  I?  Jen- 
nie, who  sat  by  my  side,  gave  me  what  she  in- 
tended as  a  comforting  squeeze  of  the  hand. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  went  on,  "  that  this  is  too 
heavy  a  matter  for  me  to  pass  judgment  upon. 
I  must  shift  the  responsibility  to  a  higher  author- 
ity. General  Grant  will  know  better  than  I  what 
to  do.  There's  no  appeal  from  him.  I  shall 
send  you  down  the  river  to-morrow.  Perhaps  I 
shall  go  at  the  same  time ;  if  not,  one  of  my  aids 
will  take  charge  of  your  case.  Wait  a  mo- 
ment ;  I'll  find  out  exactly  when  the  boat  will 
start." 


THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING  95 

He  retired  to  an  adjoining  room,  and  we  heard 
him  talking  in  a  low  tone.  Suddenly  a  great 
burst  of  laughter  broke  out,  as  if  the  whole  staff 
were  enjo}Ting  a  particularly  fine  joke. 

"  Barbarous  wretch  !"  whispered  Jennie.  "  All 
the  time  he  was  talking  to  us  I  felt  that  he  was 
making  sport  of  our  misfortunes." 

"  I  thought  so  too,"  said  I ;  "  but  we  will  bear 
it  as  patiently  as  we  can." 

The  general  returned,  and  announced  that  we 
must  be  ready  for  the  journey  at  nine  o'clock 
the  next  morning. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  sir,"  inquired  Jennie,  tremu- 
lously, "  what  my  brother  will  have  to  undergo 
for  his  fault?" 

"  Really,  I  cannot.  I  shall  have  nothing  to 
say  about  it." 

"  I  thought,  perhaps,"  she  continued,  "  it  might 
be  something  which  I  could  share,  and  make  it 
lighter  for  him.  I  am  just  as  much  to  blame  as 
he." 

"  My  dear  child !"  began  the  general,  with  a 
vehemence  that  made  me  start ;  but  he  checked 
himself,  and  added,  more  calmly  —  "I'm  afraid 
our  code  makes  no  provision  for  young  ladies 
Avho  connive  at  the  evasion  of  rebel  officers. 
You're  not  in  a  position  to  say  you  knew  noth- 
ing about  it,  are  you  ?" 


96  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

"  I  could  never  say  that,  sir,"  said  Jennie, 
turning  very  pale. 

"You  might  perhaps  acknowledge  that  you 
are  sorry  for  it,"  the  general  suggested. 

"  Sorry !"  she  cried,  her  voice  ringing  like  a 
bell,  although  the  tears  were  now  streaming 
down  her  cheeks ;  "  I  should  be  a  coward  and 
an  ingrate  to  say  I  was  sorry.  I  never  was  so 
happy  as  when  I  knew  he  was  safe  I" 

"  There,  there,"  he  rejoined,  with  what  I  took 
to  be  a  clumsy  attempt  to  soothe  her,  "  I  mustn't 
plague  you  any  more.  Your  Captain  Fairchild 
is  a  lucky  fellow.  Truly  he  is.  I  hope  he  de- 
serves his  good  -  fortune.  Dry  your  eyes,  my 
dear,  and  keep  them  bright  till — till  the  war 
ends.  It  sha'n't  last  forever,  I  promise  you. 
Keep  a  good  heart — for  somebody." 

He  took  her  hand  in  one  of  his,  and  patted  it 
with  the  other.  Then,  saying  that  business  was 
pressing,  he  wished  us  good -night  and  with- 
drew. 

"  Never  mind  him,  Jennie,"  I  whispered.  "  The 
old  bear  doesn't  know  any  better.  He  is  a  bar- 
barian, as  you  say." 

I  thought  she  needed  sympathy,  and  wanted 
to  give  her  a  little.  This  is  what  I  got  for  my 
pains  from  that  utterly  incomprehensible  sister 
of  mine : 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  97 

"How  can  you,  Lionel?  You  don't  under- 
stand him  at  all.  He  is  the  dearest  old  gentle- 
man that  ever  wore  a  uniform !" 


XII 

Of  the  meeting  with  my  dear  father  at  Yicks- 
burg,  two  days  later,  I  must  not  try  to  speak. 
The  hardships  we  had  gone  through  were  all 
forgotten.  What  cared  we  for  past  perils  and 
privations  in  the  joy  of  finding  ourselves  once 
more  under  the  loving  care  of  the  best  and  no- 
blest of  parents?  The  happy  hours  flew  by  so 
swiftly  that  the  evening  came  before  we  had 
told  him  one-half  of  what  had  befallen  us  during 
the  long  term  of  separation ;  and  we  had  scarce- 
ly approached  the  subject  which  we  felt  was  the 
gravest  and  the  most  difficult  of  all  when  a  mes- 
senger appeared,  bringing  a  request  that  Colonel 
Claiborne  would  report  himself,  with  his  family, 
at  headquarters.  Then  we  saw  how  wrong  we 
had  been  in  neglecting  to  explain  our  position  at 
the  outset.  Father  expressed  some  surprise  at 
the  summons,  but  instantly  prepared  to  obey  it. 
We  had  little  doubt  as  to  why  we  were  called, 
and,  as  we  made  our  way  through  the  disordered 


98  THE    MIDNIGHT    WARNING 

streets  of  the  recently  beleaguered  city,  I  hastily 
related  what  I  had  done,  and  what  I  expected 
the  outcome  would  be. 

"  I  should  have  heard  this  before,"  said  father. 
"  What  prompted  you  to  set  the  officer  free  ?" 

"  I  prompted  him,  father !"  exclaimed  Jennie. 
"  He  had  just  saved  Lionel  from  being  murdered." 

"  My  dear,  there  is  no  sentiment  in  war.  Your 
brother's  act  will  be  condemned,  I  fear,  without 
consideration  of  his  motive." 

"Is  General  Grant  so  very  severe?"  asked 
Jennie. 

"He  is  stern,  though  always  just.  But  he  is 
not  likely  to  trouble  himself  about  this  matter — 
that  is,  unless  I  can  persuade  him  to  interfere." 

"Why,"  said  I,  "the  general  at  Helena  de- 
clared it  must  be  settled  by  the  highest  authority. 
He  particularly  told  us  that  General  Grant  alone 
could  decide  the  case,  and  sent  me  here  for  that 
purpose." 

"  I  can't  imagine  what  he  was  thinking  of. 
He  knows,  of  course,  that  a  commanding  general 
pays  no  attention  to  such  trifles.  Perhaps  there 
is  something  behind  it  all,  of  which  you  are  still 
ignorant.  But  we  shall  soon  learn.  Let  us  hope 
for  the  best.  General  Grant  can  interfere,  if  he 
chooses  to.  I  have  never  asked  a  favor  yet,  and 
I  don't  think  I  should  be  refused  the  first  time. 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  99 

But  I  must  make  myself  sure  that  I  am  justified 
in  asking  it,  even  for  you,  my  son." 

We  entered  the  house  occupied  by  the  general- 
in-chief,  and  after  a  slight  delay  were  shown  into 
a  room  where  several  officers  and  a  few  gentle- 
men in  plain  dress  were  seated.  Near  one  of 
the  former  was  a  lad  about  thirteen  years  of 
age,  who  showed  a  lively  interest  in  the  younger 
members  of  our  party,  gazing  at  us,  I  thought, 
with  a  very  amiable  expression.  The  scout, 
Rumford,  wras  standing  close  by.  He  nodded 
pleasantly  enough,  but  did  not  move  from  his 
place  to  welcome  us  more  familiarly. 

I  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  the  principal 
figure  in  this  company.  The  respectful  atten- 
tion with  which  he  was  regarded  by  the  others 
enabled  me  to  identify  him  at  once.  He  was 
examining  some  papers  as  we  walked  m,  and  did 
not  immediately  lift  his  eyes.  But  his  face  was 
plainly  visible,  and  I  was  struck  by  the  firmness 
and  resolution  indicated  in  every  feature.  I 
should  have  been  much  better  satisfied  to  dis- 
cover some  sign  from  which  I  might  hope  for  a 
lenient  judgment  of  my  misdeed.  At  that  mo- 
ment I  saw  nothing  but  an  embodiment  of  grim 
austerity. 

He  kept  us  waiting  only  a  minute.  Looking 
up,  he  said,  aside,  to  the  scout : 


100  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

"  So  these  are  Claiborne's  twins  ?" 

Then  he  greeted  my  father,  with  somewhat 
formal  precision : 

"  Good-evening,  Colonel  Claiborne.  I  congrat- 
ulate you  on  having  your  children  with  you 
again/' 

"  Thank  you,  general,"  said  my  father.  "  It  is 
a  great  relief.  With  one  single  exception,  all 
my  personal  anxieties  are  now  at  an  end." 

"  What  is  the  exception,  colonel  V 

"  I  must  know  what  disposition  will  be  made 
of  my  son's  case  before  I  can  be  at  ease." 

"I  understand.  His  conduct  has  been  reported 
to  me  by  trustworthy  witnesses.  What  do  you 
expect  for  him  ?" 

"  I  have  not  heard  all  the  details,  general.  I 
don't  know  what  to  expect." 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  say,  What  would  you 
wish  ?" 

I  perceived  that  my  father  was  greatly  dis- 
composed, though  he  remained  outwardly  impas- 
sive. Few  of  those  present  would  have  conceived 
how  painful  the  suspense  was  to  him. 

"  If  I  may  express  a  wish,"  he  said,  "  it  is  that 
his  youth  and  the  impulse  under  which  he  acted 
may  be  taken  into  account.  The  Southern  offi- 
cer had  rescued  him  from  a  horrible  death,  and 
this  obligation  made  the  boy  unmindful  of  his 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  101 

strict  duty.     I  trust  that  the  circumstances  will 
be  remembered  in  mitigation  of  his  punishment." 

"  Punishment !"  exclaimed  the  general,  sitting 
upright  in  his  chair,  and  staring  at  my  father  in 
blank  astonishment ;  "  what  are  you  speaking 
of  ?  "We  are  at  cross-purposes.  Kuraford,  come 
here." 

The  scout  leaned  down,  and  several  sentences 
were  exchanged  between  him  and  the  head  of 
the  army  in  too  subdued  a  tone  to  be  heard  at 
our  distance.  At  the  end  of  this  colloquy  the 
general  turned  to  us  again,  and  I  fancied  I  saw 
a  slight  relaxation  of  the  determined  lines  in  his 
countenance. 

"  Now  I  have  the  whole  of  it,"  he  said.  "  Your 
son  concocted  a  scheme  for  the  escape  of  a  South- 
ern officer." 

"  So  I  am  informed,"  replied  my  father. 

"  You  admit  this,  young  gentleman  ?"  proceed- 
ed the  general,  addressing  me. 

"  It  is  true,  sir." 

Neither  my  father  nor  I  would  have  thought 
it  wise  to  add  another  word ;  but  Jennie,  poor 
child,  who  had  all  along  been  convinced  that  she 
had  put  the  idea  into  my  head,  could  not  control 
herself. 

"  Ah,  general,"  she  faltered,  "it  was  at  my  re- 
quest he  did  it." 


102  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

"Against  his  own  will?"  asked  the  general, 
stiffly. 

"  I  think  not,"  she  answered ;  and  then,  more 
faintly,  "  I  hope  not." 

"Hush,  my  daughter,"  said  father.  "What 
Lionel  did,  he  must  abide  by." 

A  pause  followed,  which  seemed  to  me  inter- 
minable ;  and  while  it  lasted  we  were  curiously 
observed  by  all  in  the  room.  Finally  the  gen- 
eral's clear  and  even  voice  broke  the  silence. 

"  The  escape  of  a  prisoner  is  sometimes  a  dan- 
gerous matter.  The  least  I  can  do,  Colonel  Clai- 
borne, is  to  see  that  such  a  thing  does  not  occur 
in  your  family  again.  The  question  is  how  to 
prevent  it.  Your  son  has  placed  a  personal  obli- 
gation above  a  public  duty.  "We  must  put  him 
in  a  position  where  that  will  be  impossible.  Un- 
der proper  military  discipline  he  will  learn  to  reg- 
ulate his  feelings  by  the  rules  of  the  service.  A 
lieutenant's  commission  is  what  he  requires  first 
of  all.     You  will  look  after  the  rest." 

I  could  hardly  believe  my  ears.  If  the  gen- 
eral was  in  earnest — and  he  seemed  incapable  of 
levity — I  was  to  receive,  instead  of  chastisement, 
a  reward  of  high  honor.  It  was  incredible.  I 
looked  for  the  effect  of  what  we  had  heard  upon 
my  father  and  sister.  Jennie  evidently  did  not 
comprehend  it  in  the  least.     She  was  as  much  in 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  103 

the  dark  as  little  Julius,  and  a  great  deal  more 
frightened.  My  father,  too,  was  deeply  agitated, 
but  by  a  very  different  emotion.  I  had  never 
before  seen  him  so  shaken  from  his  usual  pla- 
cidity. He  went  forward  hastily  to  a  position 
nearer  his  chief. 

"This  is  more  than  I  could  have  hoped,"  he 
said,  with  much  feeling.  "  I  have  done  nothing 
to  entitle  me  to  such  generosity." 

"  We  will  leave  you  out  of  consideration  just 
now,  colonel,"  answered  General  Grant.  "  I  am 
settling  accounts  with  your  son.  It  appears 
that  you  have  heard  only  a  part  of  what  he  has 
done.  He  has  told  you  about  his  transgression, 
but  kept  his  gallant  exploit  to  himself.  All  the 
more  creditable  to  him.  ISTo,  colonel,  there's  no 
generosity  in  this  business.  "We  are  indebted  to 
him  for  an  important  service.  Like  his  father, 
he  knows  how  to  prove  his  loyalty  at  the  right 
time.    It  runs  in  the  Claiborne  blood,  I  suppose." 

If  I  may  judge  by  my  own  sensations,  the 
Claiborne  blood  stood  still  in  all  our  veins  when 
the  captor  of  Vicksburg  ceased  speaking.  Be- 
fore any  of  us  could  recover  ourselves,  the  gen- 
eral beckoned  the  lad  whose  presence  I  have 
mentioned,  and  said  to  him : 

"  Go  and  shake  hands  with  that  young  gentle- 
man, Fred.   He  will  grow  up  to  be  a  fine  soldier." 


104  THE    MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

The  youth  crossed  the  room  and  gave  me  his 
hand  with  frank  boyish  cordiality. 

" I'm  glad  to  hear  that  you  belong  to  us"  he 
said,  brightly  and  cheerily. 

Most  of  the  company  laughed  at  his  quaint 
manner  of  welcoming  me  as  a  comrade  in  the 
service  to  which  he  considered  himself  attached, 
and  the  general's  face  was  lighted  with  a  smile 
which  banished  all  the  severity  from  his  features. 
It  was  gone  in  an  instant,  but  I  have  never  for- 
gotten that  sudden  and  brief  gleam  of  sunshine 
upon  a  countenance  from  which  the  expression 
of  unbending  gravity  was  so  rarely  absent. 

I  am  sure  that  he  introduced  his  son  into  the 
conversation  with  a  thoughtful  desire  to  relieve 
us,  and  particularly  my  father,  from  the  strain 
and  embarrassment  of  the  situation.  I  told  the 
lad  I  should  value  his  kind  congratulations,  and 
then,  approaching  the  general,  offered  him  my 
thanks  in  words  which  I  can  only  hope  were  be- 
fitting, for  I  do  not  recall  a  single  one  of  them. 
After  I  had  spoken,  Jennie  and  Julius  were 
brought  up  and  presented  by  Master  Fred,  who, 
perceiving  that  they  were  under  some  constraint, 
gave  them  the  benefit  of  his  protection,  and  did 
his  best  to  make  them  comfortable. 

"  I  can't  do  better  than  dismiss  you  now,"  said 
General  Grant,  after  a  few  casual  sentences  had 


THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING  105 

been  exchanged.  "  You  have  yet  a  great  deal 
to  hear  and  to  tell,  and  would  like  to  be  alone, 
no  doubt.  I  will  send  Rumford  around  in  the 
course  of  the  evening  to  supply  some  information 
about  the  Helena  battle  which  I  find  has  not 
been  communicated  to  Lieutenant  Claiborne.1' 

Lieutenant  Claiborne!  The  title  took  my 
breath  away.  What  was  the  "  mister  "  of  Gen- 
eral Prentiss  to  this?  An  empty,  insignificant 
sound — nothing  more.  This  had  indeed  a  mean- 
ing! And  my  father,  after  he  had  heard  all, 
partly  from  me  and  partly  from  Rumford,  was 
pleased  to  declare  that  I  deserved  it.  With  a 
heart  full  of  gratitude  and  happiness  I  resolved 
that  my  constant  study  should  be  to  make  my- 
self more  and  more  worthy  of  it,  and  to  justify, 
by  unceasing  industry  and  devotion,  the  confi- 
dence with  which  I  had  been  so  signally  favored. 

The  events  of  a  single  Fourth  of  July  thus  in- 
troduced me  to  a  career  which  I  followed  with 
enthusiasm  while  the  war  lasted,  and  from  which 
I  did  not  retire  until  called  to  another  sphere  of 
duty.  The  Fourth  of  1864  was  passed  at  a 
point  far  remote  from  our  Arkansas  home,  but 
the  succeeding  anniversary  saw  us  under  the  old 
roof  once  more,  with  our  faithful  little  band  of 
retainers  revelling  around  us.  From  that  time 
the  history  of  the  Claiborne  family  has  been  one 


106  THE   MIDNIGHT   WARNING 

of  peace  and  domestic  prosperity.  The  even 
tranquillity  of  five- and -twenty  years  has  been 
varied  by  so  few  exciting  events  that  the  epi- 
sodes of  the  Rebellion,  in  which  we  were  so  ac- 
tively concerned,  sound  like  romantic  fiction  to 
the  youthful  generation  now  advancing  to  ma- 
turity. It  is  for  the  edification  of  these  children 
of  a  less  stormy  period  that  I,  the  soldier  of  the 
past  and  the  simple  farmer  of  to-day,  have  un- 
dertaken to  set  down  in  lasting  form  the  record 
of  our  share  in  the  great  contest  between  North 
and  South.  The  juvenile  circle  for  which  it  is 
intended  has  many  members,  all  alike  dear  to  us 
who  watch  the  progress  of  their  young  lives ; 
yet  I  have  in  this  instance  allowed  nwself  to  be 
so  far  partial  as  to  dedicate  my  chronicle  espe- 
cially to  two  of  the  number,  for  no  other  reason 
than  that  they  happen  to  be  called  Jennie  and 
Lionel.  They  are  not  twins,  however,  and  their 
last  name  is  not  Claiborne,  but  one  which  my 
sister  has  borne  since  her  wedding  day,  when  she 
ceased  to  be  known  in  society  as  Miss  Jennie 
Claiborne,  and,  with  the  heartiest  approval  of 
her  father  and  brothers,  became  Mrs.  Richard 
Fairchild.  In  these  later  years  it  is  only  her 
oldest  and  nearest  relations  who,  looking  back  to 
the  time  of  her  youth,  claim  and  exercise  the 
right  to  speak  of  her  as  one  of  Claiborne's  Twins. 


GRACIE'S    GODSON 


Fiest  you  shall  learn  how  two  babies  —  so 
called  or  miscalled — were  made  acquainted  with 
each  other  under  strange  and  anomalous  condi- 
tions ;  and  afterwards  how  one  of  them,  by  most 
unusual  processes,  but  greatly  to  his  happiness, 
became  the  other's  godson. 

Mrs.  George  Sheldon  stood  at  an  open  window 
of  her  house  in  one  of  the  far  up-town  districts 
of  New  York,  looking  across  a  little  grass-plot 
which  belonged  to  the  establishment,  and  grave- 
ly inspecting  the  antics  of  a  crowd  of  boys  who 
were  noisily  amusing  themselves  on  the  side- 
walk. She  was  in  great  distress.  Her  daughter 
Grace,  a  child  five  years  of  age,  lay  dangerously 
ill  up-stairs — so  ill  that  the  doctor  doubted  her 
chance  of  recovery  unless  she  could  be  kept  in 
perfect  rest  and  quiet  for  several  days  to  come. 


108  GKACIE  S   GODSON 

Mr.  Sheldon  had  ordered  tan  to  be  spread  in 
the  street  to  deaden  the  sound  of  passing  vehi- 
cles, and  within -doors  the  utmost  silence  was 
maintained  day  and  night.  But  there  was  one 
cause  of  disturbance  which  had  just  that  after- 
noon made  itself  apparent,  and  against  which  the 
anxious  mother  felt  herself  unable  to  contend. 

The  street  urchins  of  that  neighborhood  were 
as  bad  a  rabble  as  could  be  found  in  any  except 
the  most  disreputable  quarters  of  the  city.  Fine 
residences  were  gradually  crowding  out  the  rude 
hovels  which  originally  covered  the  ground,  but 
numbers  of  wretched  shanties  still  remained,  oc- 
cupied by  an  extremely  low  and  ill -regulated 
class  of  tenants.  The  proportion  of  children 
among  these  seemed  entirely  beyond  reasonable 
calculation.  They  swarmed  through  the  thor- 
oughfares at  all  hours,  bent  upon  nothing  but 
finding  ways  of  making  themselves  obnoxious 
and  destroying  the  peace  of  decent  citizens.  No 
form  of  diversion  was  satisfactory  to  them  in 
which  they  could  not  contribute  to  the  annoy- 
ance and  exasperation  of  the  orderly  communi- 
ty. Clamor  and  confusion  were  essential  to  their 
happiness,  and  he  who  could  discover  the  newest 
methods  of  creating  uproar  became  the  tempo- 
rary leader  in  their  pastimes  and  the  idol  of  his 
mates. 


GKACIE  S   GODSON  109 

A  handsome  fence  of  iron  bars  separated  the 
Sheldons'  little  lawn  from  the  sidewalk.  It  is  a 
matter  of  notorious  record  that,  since  the  earli- 
est dawn  of  history,  fences  of  this  description 
have  been  choice  objects  of  interest  and  affection 
to  boys  of  every  station  and  degree,  their  rooted 
conviction  being  that  such  structures  are  fabri- 
cated solely  to  afford  them  the  unspeakable  de- 
light of  dragging  sticks  along  the  parallel  spokes 
from  end  to  end,  thereby  producing  a  clangor 
like  that  of  a  watchman's  rattle  multiplied  and 
aggravated  a  hundred-fold.  To  the  very  best  of 
boys  the  temptation  to  indulge  in  this  exhilarat- 
ing sport  is  almost  irresistible.  By  the  boys  of 
the  locality  in  which  the  Sheldons  dwelt  it  would 
have  been  deemed  a  wilful  if  not  a  criminal  neg- 
lect of  opportunity — a  flying  in  the  face  of  be- 
neficent fortune — to  refrain  from  revelling  in  the 
luxury  which  circumstance  had  placed  at  their 
disposal.  The  only  wonder  was  that  they  had 
not  found  it  out  before,  and  turned  it  to  happy 
account. 

Now,  however,  the  entertainment  was  in  vig- 
orous operation,  and  the  performers  were  mak- 
ing up  for  the  time  lost  during  the  period  when 
the  splendid  possibilities  of  iron  pickets  were  yet 
unrevealed  to  them.  The  master  of  ceremonies 
was  a  youth  somewhat  smaller  in  stature  and 


110  GKACIE  S   GODSON 

presumably  younger  than  the  majority  of  his 
companions,  who  carried  in  his  right  hand  a  steel 
rod  about  two  feet  long,  which  he  pressed  with 
all  his  force  against  the  bars  as  he  ran  the  whole 
length  of  the  fence,  making  a  din  sufficient  to 
shatter  the  senses  of  a  rhinoceros,  not  to  speak 
of  the  delicate  nerves  of  the  little  sick  girl.  He 
was  closely  followed  by  a  dozen  or  more  juvenile 
vagabonds,  some  with  barrel -staves,  some  with 
broom-handles,  some  with  sections  of  stove -fun- 
nels. Several  of  the  party  carried  two  clattering 
contrivances,  one  in  each  fist.  The  commander- 
in-chief  was  debarred  this  privilege,  being  under 
the  necessity  of  holding  a  bundle  of  newspapers 
to  his  side  with  his  left  arm,  but  the  energy  and 
dexterity  with  which  he  manipulated  the  steel 
rod  gave  him  a  superiority  which  could  not  just- 
ly be  contested,  and  made  him  easily  the  first 
among  his  fellows — facile  jwinceps,  he  would 
have  been  called  had  he  been  a  gutter  imp  of 
ancient  Rome  instead  of  an  unruly  newsboy  of 
modern  New  York. 

What  could  Mrs.  Sheldon  do  ?  She  might  send 
for  a  policeman,  and  have  the  mischievous  mob 
dispersed,  but  she  well  knew  that  the  relief  thus 
obtained  would  be  merely  momentary.  The  of- 
ficer's back  would  no  sooner  be  turned  than  the 
pests  would  be  at  their  work  again,  strengthened 


gracie's  godson  111 

with  reinforcements  and  stimulated  by  revenge- 
ful wrath  to  fresh  exertions.  The  unhappy  lady 
was  in  torture  at  the  thought  of  what  her  darling 
might  be  suffering  from  the  hideous  tumult.  She 
understood  how  useless  would  be  any  attempt  to 
bribe  the  malefactors  to  peace  and  quiet.  Pity 
was  not  in  their  nature.  They  would  have  taken 
her  money,  and  then  spread  the  intelligence  that 
instantaneous  wealth  was  at  the  command  of  any 
body  of  boys  who  chose  to  seek  it  through  this 
fascinating  channel.  The  nuisance  would  simply 
be  intensified  and  prolonged. 

While  she  gazed,  more  in  sorrow  than  in  an- 
ger, at  the  persecutors  of  her  baby,  the  director 
of  the  discordant  orchestra  chanced  to  turn  in 
her  direction,  and  caught  sight  of  her  face  at  the 
raised  window.  This  young  scapegrace  was  not 
without  some  of  the  qualities  of  an  estimable 
lady  immortalized  by  a  famous  poet  of  the  last 
century :  "  Though  on  pleasure  he  was  bent,  he 
had  a  frugal  mind."  He  checked  himself  ab- 
ruptly in  his  furious  race  up  and  down  the  side- 
walk, and  pushing  open  the  gate,  ran  across  the 
lawn  and  planted  himself  directly  in  front  of 
Mrs.  Sheldon. 

"  Papeers  !"  he  cried.  "  Evening  papeers  ! 
Wor-yeeld  !     Sun  !     Tel  'gram  /" 

The  lady  shook  her  head  without  speaking. 


112  GRACIE  S    GODSON 

"Extree!"  persisted  the  peddler  of  news. 
"  Wor-yeeld — sport' n  edish'n  !  Mail  V  Expray- 
ess  /" 

Receiving  no  encouragement,  he  whirled  swift- 
ly upon  his  heels,  right  willing  to  relinquish  the 
shadowy  hope  of  commerce  with  a  stranger  for 
the  certainty  of  resuming  a  delightful  recreation 
with  his  comrades. 

"  Oh,  baby  !  baby  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sheldon, 
sadly,  as  he  started  away  with  a  flourish  of  his 
metal  rod  in  the  air. 

Unexpectedly  to  her  he  swung  round  again 
and  looked  up  with  an  impudent  stare  of  in- 
quiry. 

"  No,"  she  said ;  "  I  want  no  papers." 

"  Yer  called  me,"  he  returned,  sulkily. 

"  I  did  not  call,"  she  replied. 

"  Yes,  yer  did.     Yer  sung  out  '  Baby.'  " 

"  Is  your  name  Baby  ?"  Mrs.  Sheldon  asked, 
with  indifference,  not  caring  in  the  least  wheth- 
er it  was  or  not. 

"  O'  course  it  ain't ;  but  that's  what  the  fellers 
calls  me — choke  'em  !  Just  wait  till  I  get  a  year 
bigger.  Then  I'll  'Baby'  every  father's  son  of 
'em !" 

Mrs.  Sheldon  now  looked  at  the  boy  more  at- 
tentively than  before,  and  what  she  saw  im- 
pressed her.      He  was  about  twelve  years  old, 


GKACIE  S   GODSON  113 

raggedly  clad,  and  as  untidy  as  those  of  his  call- 
ing are  apt  to  be.  His  attitude  was  defiant,  and 
the  expression  of  his  countenance  was  hard  and 
aggressive.  But  the  features  were  as  fine  and 
delicate  as  those  of  a  girl,  and  the  dirt  on  his 
cheeks  could  not  hide  the  clear  brightness  of  his 
complexion.  In  his  red  tangled  hair  there  was 
a  shine  of  gold,  and  his  large  blue  eyes  gleamed 
with  a  light  the  charm  of  which  went  far  to 
counteract  the  vicious  boldness  of  their  stare. 
It  seemed  probable  to  the  observant  lady  that 
the  title  of  "Baby"  had  been  bestowed  by  his 
associates  in  consequence  of  his  peculiar  beauty, 
which  they  regarded  as  effeminate  and  infantile, 
and  that  he  resented  the  imputations  it  conveyed 
with  the  spirit  becoming  to  an  advanced  news- 
boy of  the  nineteenth  century. 

The  thought  came  rapidly  to  her  mind  that 
the  epithet  applied  in  mockery  might  possibly 
have  some  justification  in  the  lad's  character; 
and  if  this  were  the  case,  an  appeal  to  his  better 
feeling  on  behalf  of  her  afflicted  child  might  not 
be  utterly  fruitless.  It  was  a  slender  hope,  but 
she  would  make  the  trial. 

"  I'll  buy  your  papers,"  she  said. 

"  How  many  of  'em  ?" 

"  All  you  have,  if  you  will  do  what  I  desire. 
Come  into  the  house ;  I  will  open  the  door." 


114  gracie's  godson 

"What's  the  game?''  he  demanded,  with  a 
sharp  glance  of  distrust. 

"Come,  if  you  wish  to  sell  your  papers.  If 
not,  I  can  wait  here  no  longer." 

"  Yer  won't  go  to  set  a  watch-dog  on  me  ?"  he 
said,  hesitating.     "  I  can't  fight  a  watch-dog." 

By  way  of  reply  she  drew  a  portemonnaie 
from  her  pocket,  and  took  out  some  loose  silver. 
The  glitter  of  the  coin  appeared  to  allay  his  sus- 
picions, and  when  she  threw  back  the  hall  door 
he  walked  jauntily  in,  with  considerably  more 
effrontery  in  his  air  than  was  natural  or  appro- 
priate to  the  situation. 

"  What  is  your  real  name  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Shel- 
don, leading  the  way  to  the  room  in  which  she 
had  been  standing. 

"  Dun'  no',"  was  the  reply,  in  a  sullen  tone. 

"  Surely  you  are  not  always  called  Baby  ?" 

"  Down  at  the  newspaper  shops  they  calls  me 
the  Coyote." 

"  Indeed !     And  which  do  you  like  best  ?" 

"  By-'n'-by  I'm  goin'  to  strip  the  hide  off  of  ev- 
ery feller  what's  called  me  Baby— if  I  kin." 

"  Very  well ;  it  doesn't  matter  whether  you 
have  a  name  or  not.     Now  take  off  }^our  cap." 

"  What  '11  I  do  with  it  ?"  demanded  the  young 
scamp,  looking  furtively  and  warily  about  him. 
He  obeyed,  however,  and  held  the  tattered  head- 


GRACIE  S    GODSON  115 

covering  awkwardly  in  his  hand,  with  a  look  of 
surprise  at  being  thus  required  to  encumber  him- 
self, when  any  one  might  see  that  to  leave  it  in 
its  natural  and  customary  resting-place  would  be 
much  more  comfortable  for  all  concerned. 

"  Put  it  in  your  pocket,  if  you  like,"  said  the 
lady  ;  "anywhere  except  on  your  head." 

He  preferred  to  roll  it  up  and  poke  it  inside 
the  breast  of  his  flaring  red  woollen  shirt,  after 
which  he  proceeded  to  dishevel  his  hair  with  the 
unoccupied  hand ;  but  he  could  not  brush  away 
the  rich  coloring  or  straighten  the  kink  out  of 
the  short  curls. 

"Listen  to  me,"  Mrs.  Sheldon  continued. 
"  Have  you  a  mother  or  a  sister  ?" 

"  No,"  he  answered,  without  a  sign  of  interest. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  sick  ?" 

"  Guess  not ;  don't  remember." 

"I  have  a  little  girl  —  scarcely  more  than  a 
baby  —  who  is  very  sick,  perhaps  dying.  The 
least  noise  hurts  her  terribly.  Can  you  stop  that 
dreadful  banging  on  the  fence  ?" 

"  What  '11  yer  give  me  to  stop  V 

"  I  don't  mean  you  alone ;  I  want  you  to  keep 
the  others  quiet,  too." 

"  How  kin  I  do  that  ?"  he  asked,  impatiently. 

"  If  you  tell  them  why,  perhaps  they  will  go 
away." 


116  GRACIE  S    GODSON 

"  O'  course  they  won't,"  he  rejoined,  scornful- 
ly.    "  Catch  'em !" 

The  sorrowful  mother  was  reluctant  to  let  the 
chance  slip  by,  poor  as  it  was.  If  this  small  rag- 
amuffin had  a  spark  of  humanity  in  him,  it  ought 
to  be  touched  by  the  anguish  of  her  child.  It 
was  hard  to  believe  that  a  boy  of  his  years  could 
be  wholly  insensible  to  compassion.  Suddenly 
she  resolved  to  bring  him  face  to  face  with  the 
little  invalid  up-stairs. 

"Come  and  look  at  my  dear  daughter,"  she 
said.  "  When  you  see  how  weak  and  ill  she  is, 
you  will  understand  why  I  ask  you  to  help  me. 
Step  softly,  and  do  not  speak  out  loud." 


II 

Without  a  word  the  newsboy  followed  her  to 
the  floor  above,  and  walked  unmoved  into  the 
chamber  where  the  ailing  girl  lay.  A  nurse  who 
was  sitting  at  the  bedside  looked  up  astonished 
at  the  unexpected  visitor,  but  Mrs.  Sheldon  im- 
posed silence  by  a  gesture,  and  beckoned  him  to 
draw  near. 

It  needed  no  keen  perception  to  realize  the 
sufferer's  condition.     Her  gentle  face  was  hag- 


OKACIE  S    GODSON  117 

gard  with  pain,  and  her  soft  dark  eyes  seemed  to 
plead  for  relief  as  she  turned  them  beseechingly 
upon  her  mother. 

"Mamma,"  she  moaned,  feebly,  "please  do 
make  them  stop ;  my  head  aches  so." 

"  I  am  going  to  try,  dear,"  Mrs.  Sheldon  an- 
swered. To  the  boy  she  added  in  an  undertone: 
"  You  can  see  what  misery  she  is  in.  When  you 
tell  your  playfellows  they  Avill  surely  listen." 

"  Do  no  good,"  he  muttered.  "  Gi'  me  a  min- 
ute to  think.     May  I  look  out  o'  winder  V 

"  Yes.  "We  have  to  keep  it  open  all  the  time, 
the  heat  is  so  great.  You  can  hear  how  fright- 
ful the  noise  is." 

He  crept  across  the  room,  and  peered  cautious- 
ly forth.  While  he  did  this  the  nurse,  Avho  re- 
garded him  with  extreme  disfavor,  said  to  Mrs. 
Sheldon, 

"  Don't  trust  that  wretch  for  anything,  ma'am ; 
he'll  be  a  great  deal  readier  to  do  harm  than 
good." 

"  He  has  a  beautiful  face,  nurse." 

"But  the  wickedness  of  his  eyes  is  awful. 
There's  nothing  but  spitefulness  in  him." 

She  would  have  continued  in  the  same  strain  if 
the  object  of  her  disparagement  had  not  quickly 
returned  and  interrupted  her.  He  was  smiling  in 
a  peculiar  and  by  no  means  amiable  way.. 


118  GRACIE  S   GODSON 

"  I'm  the  feller  that  kin  do  it,"  he  said,  with  a 
hoarse  chuckle.     "  What's  the  figure  ?" 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,"  the 
nurse  broke  in,  very  earnestly,  though  as  softly 
as  possible.  "  You  ought  to  be  overjoyed  to  do 
anything  in  the  world  for  this  dear,  unhappy  lit- 
tle angel." 

"This  is  biz,"  he  retorted,  with  an  ugly  scowl. 
"  The  lady  promised  to  buy  all  my  papers." 

"  That  is  true,"  assented  Mrs.  Sheldon  ;  "  and  I 
will  do  it,  and  a  great  deal  more,  if  you  can  drive 
those  boys  out  of  the  street." 

"I've  got  the  trick,"  he  responded,  leering  craft- 
ily. "  I  know  how  to  work  it  straight  through, 
if  yer  come  down  handsome,  and  make  it  worth 
my  while.  Yer've  only  got  to  leave  it  to  me, 
and  it  goes.  Put  up  the  cash,  and  I'll  clear  'em 
all  out,  sure  as  I  stand  here.  I  kin  send  'em 
spinning  soon  as  I  like,  or,"  he  whispered,  with  a 
malicious  grin,  "I  kin  keep  'em  at  it  harder'n 
ever  all  day  long  and  p'r'aps  all  night.  'Tain't 
for  me  to  say  which  it's  goin'  to  be.  It's  for  you 
to  choose,  ma'am,  and  make  up  yer  mind  how 
much  yer'll  stand." 

Mrs.  Sheldon  looked  at  the  heartless  young 
reprobate  with  unconcealed  disgust.  The  nurse 
was  for  a  moment  speechless  with  indignation,  but 
quickly  recovering  the  use  of  her  tongue,  she  said, 


ORACLE  S   GODSON  119 

"  Don't  give  him  a  cent,  ma'am,  I  beg  of  you ; 
not  unless  he  proves  that  he  can  do  what  you 
wish." 

"  I  will  pay  for  your  papers  in  any  case,"  Mrs. 
Sheldon  remarked,  coldly ;  "  that  was  agreed.  If 
you  stop  this  hideous  crashing,  you  shall  have — 
Give  attention,  if  you  please." 

She  paused,  observing  that  he  was  casting  sharp 
glances  about  the  room  and  curiously  inspecting 
the  furniture,  instead  of  listening  as  closely  as 
she  thought  necessary. 

"  I'm  a-hearin'  of  yer,"  he  replied.  "  Go  ahead, 
ma'am." 

"  If  you  make  them  stop  now,  you  shall  come 
to  me  this  evening  at  nine  o'clock  for  half  a  dol- 
lar. If  they  are  quiet  all  day  to-morrow  you 
shall  have  another  half-dollar  at  the  same  hour." 

"It's  too  much,  Mrs.  Sheldon,"  protested  the 
nurse. 

"Not  if  he  succeeds.  And  so  on  every  day 
until  my  child  is  well." 

"  S'pose  she  don't  get  well  ?" 

"You  unfeeling  little  monster,  how  dare  you?" 
said  the  nurse,  writhing  under  the  necessity  of 
keeping  her  ire  within  bounds.  "  Of  course  she 
will  get  well." 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say,  'cause  you're  a-nursin'  of  her," 
was  the  sneering  response.    "Well,  I  didn't  mean 


120  GRACIE  S    GODSON 

for  her  to  hear,  anyway.  So  that's  the  bargain, 
ma'am.  I'm  to  have  half  a  dollar  for  every  day 
the  fellers  don't  play  onto  the  fence !" 

"  Yes ;  and  my  thanks,  if  you  care  for  them." 

It  did  not  appear  that  he  was  dazzlingly  al- 
lured by  this  part  of  the  prospective  reward. 
His  eyes  began  to  rove  around  the  chamber 
again,  as  if  attracted  by  the  various  unfamiliar 
objects  distributed  here  and  there.  All  at  once 
he  said:  "Will  yer  let  me  look  into  the  street 
once  more?" 

Mrs.  Sheldon  nodded  in  assent,  and  for  a  min- 
ute he  devoted  himself  to  a  second  scrutiny  of 
the  window,  after  which  he  returned  apparently 
satisfied. 

"  The  papers  is  thirty  -  five  cents,"  he  ob- 
served. 

"  I  will  count  them,  ma'am,"  proposed  the 
nurse. 

"  Oh,  go  'way !"  the  thrifty  speculator  grunted, 
in  deep  scorn  and  mockery.  "  Anybody  kin  see 
'tain't  your  kid  that's  sick." 

"Be  quiet,"  ordered  Mrs.  Sheldon.  "Here  is 
the  money,  and  you  may  keep  the  papers.  They 
are  of  no  use  to  me/' 

"  May  I  ?"  he  said,  greedily ;  but,  on  reflection, 
he  declined  the  offer,  though  with  evident  reluc- 
tance.    "  No,  that  '11  spoil  my  game.    But  if  yer 


GKACIE  S    GODSON  121 

want  to  make  me  a  present,  I'll  take  it  money 
down." 

"  Oh,  ma'am,  do  send  the  jackanapes  away," 
entreated  the  nurse.    "  He's  only  deceivin'  you." 

The  jackanapes  surveyed  her  with  cool  con- 
tempt, and,  turning  his  back  to  the  bed,  addressed 
himself  exclusively  to  the  mistress  of  the  house. 

"  I'll  go  now,"  he  said.  "  Yer'll  hear  lots  of 
music  for  the  next  five  or  ten  minutes.  Don't 
mind  that.  Shut  the  window  if  yer  can't  stand 
the  racket.  Yer'll  see  me  goin'  in  louder'n  any 
of  'em.  That's  all  right ;  yer'll  be  able  to  hold 
out  a  little  while  longer,  I  guess.  Then  I'll  come 
back  to  the  house  and  pertend  to  talk  to  you.  I 
sha'n't  have  nothing  to  say  ;  just  let  me  in,  and 
pretty  soon  I'll  clear  out  for  good.  If  I  can't  fix 
the  boys,  nobody  can't  do  it.  Say,  it's  square 
about  that  half-dollar  to-night  V 

"  You  shall  have  it,  if  you  earn  it." 

He  pocketed  the  money  that  was  handed  to 
him,  laid  his  bundle  of  papers  on  a  chair,  drew 
forth  his  cap  and  clapped  it  on  the  back  of  his 
head,  made  an  apish  grimace  at  the  nurse,  who 
watched  the  proceedings  wrathfully,  and  betook 
himself  down-stairs  and  into  the  open  air. 


122  GRACIES   GODSON 


III 

Though  her  expectations  had  not  much  to  rest 
upon,  Mrs.  Sheldon  followed  the  newsboy's  move- 
ments attentively  through  the  window.  For  a 
time  she  saw  little  to  encourage  her. 

The  reappearance  of  their  leader  was  the  sig- 
nal for  an  uproarious  demonstration  on  the  part 
of  the  juvenile  mob.  After  the  interchange  of  a 
few  words,  he  sprang  with  redoubled  vigor  to  his 
interrupted  sport,  using  not  only  the  formidable 
steel  rod,  but  also  an  old  saw  blade,  of  which  he 
ruthlessly  dispossessed  a  smaller  member  of  the 
brotherhood. 

"  He's  the  worst  of  them  all,"  said  the  nurse, 
who  had  come  to  look  on  by  her  employer's  side. 

"  He  told  me  he  should  do  this  at  first,"  an- 
swered Mrs.  Sheldon,  clinging  to  the  faintest 
chance  of  a  respite. 

"  Ah,  ma'am,  there's  nothing  on  earth  like  their 
rascality." 

"I  thought  he  seemed  less  wild  and  brutal  than 
they  generally  are,  nurse.  Did  you  notice  that 
he  spoke  a  little  more  correctly  than  most  of 
them  ?     He  did  not  say  '  de '  and  *  dat '  for  '  the ' 


GRACIE  S   GODSON  123 

and  'that,'  like  many  that  you  hear.  Perhaps  he 
has  some  ideas  of  right  and  wrong." 

"  "Well,  ma'am,  it's  my  opinion  the  workin's  of 
the  human  breast  don't  go  by  parts  o'  speech,  nor 
yet  the  way  you  pronounce  'em.  I've  heard  la- 
dies that  goes  out  to  service  make  mistakes  in  a 
way  with  their  mouths,  and  their  hearts  as  good 
as  California  gold  all  day  long." 

A  stronger  brogue  than  usual  accompanied  the 
slight  tone  of  injury  in  which  the  excellent  Irish 
nurse  delivered  this  piece  of  wisdom,  and  Mrs. 
Sheldon  forbore  further  discussion  of  the  delicate 
point.  She  was  about  to  turn  the  conversation 
to  subjects  in  which  no  tinge  of  personality  could 
be  suspected,  when  it  was  observed  that  the  or- 
der of  events  without  began  to  change.  A  num- 
ber of  the  older  boys  suspended  operations  and 
withdrew  from  the  line.  They  were  seen  to  fol- 
low the  Baby,  and  question  him  eagerly.  He 
also  paused,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn 
into  an  animated  conversation.  But  his  inactivity 
did  not  last  long ;  he  was  quickly  at  work  again, 
creating  alone  as  much  din  as  the  half-dozen  who 
had  retired.  Presently  he  was  surrounded,  and 
an  attempt  was  made  to  drag  him  from  the  fence. 
This  he  resisted  angrily,  and  a  stormy  debate 
ensued.  His  voice  was  heard  loud  above  the  rest, 
though  what  he  said  could  not  be  distinguished. 


124  GRACIE  S   GODSON 

At  last  he  seemed  to  yield  to  the  pressure  put 
upon  him  by  the  majority,  and  Avith  every  indi- 
cation of  repugnance  and  ill-humor  he  left  the 
crowd,  and  marched  up  the  pathway  to  the  house. 
The  commotion  ceased  as  if  by  magic. 

"He  has  actually  stopped  them,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Sheldon.     "  How  could  he  do  it  ?" 

"  Don't  be  too  sure,  ma'am,"  the  nurse  advised. 
"It  may  be  a  trick  to  get  the  money  sooner. 
Pray  don't  give  him  any  before  night." 

Mrs.  Sheldon  went  to  the  door  and  admitted 
the  boy,  who  showed  no  disposition  to  respond 
to  her  questions,  saying  merely  that  he  guessed 
the  job  was  safe  now,  and  that  he  would  come 
for  his  pay  at  nine  o'clock. 

"  And  then  you  will  tell  me  how  you  persuaded 
them,"  she  proposed. 

"Not  much,"  he  replied,  winking  slyly.  "When 
I  get  a  good  thing,  I  keep  it  to  myself." 

And  indeed  it  was  long  before  the  lady,  or  any 
of  her  family,  learned  the  secret  of  his  power  to 
control  the  actions  of  that  lawless  tribe. 

The  Baby,  or  the  Coyote,  as  it  less  offended  his 
dignity  to  be  designated,  was  a  strategist.  Out- 
side of  the  narrow  range  of  his  obscure  life  and 
class  he  knew  nothing,  but  with  the  nature  and 
characteristics  of  his  associates  he  was  pretty 
thoroughly  acquainted.     To  this  accurate  under- 


GRACIE  S   GODSON  125 

standing  he  owed  the  success  of  the  scheme  he 
had  devised  for  the  abatement  of  Mrs.  Sheldon's 
grievance  and  his  own  pecuniary  advantage. 

When  he  came  forth,  after  pledging  himself  to 
undertake  the  difficult  enterprise,  he  assumed  an 
air  of  dense  preoccupation,  scarcely  heeding  the 
acclamations  which  greeted  him.  To  the  inqui- 
ries of  his  most  intimate  friends  he  vouchsafed 
only  the  curtest  replies. 

"Where's  your  papes,  Baby?" 

"  JSTo  use  for  'em ;  got  a  bigger  job  on  hand ;" 
and  he  wrenched  the  saw  blade  away  from  a 
weaker  brother,  as  heretofore  described,  and  com- 
menced a  series  of  variations  on  the  fence  with 
all  the  might  of  his  soul  and  body. 

This  was  mysterious,  and  a  mystery  is  not  the 
sort  of  thing  to  be  passed  by  the  ordinary  street 
arab  without  probing.  The  big  boys  began  to 
transfer  their  interest  from  the  pursuit  of  the 
hour  to  their  comrade's  behavior.  Without  con- 
sultation, but  inspired  by  a  common  impulse,  they 
drew  aside  and  studied  him.  So  far  as  they  could 
perceive,  he  was  entirely  unconscious  of  this  scru- 
tiny, and  they  soon  proceeded  to  more  active  and 
direct  methods  of  investigation. 

"Say,  Baby,  what's  up?" 

"  Gone  out  o'  de  newspaper  biz,  Baby  ?" 

"  Who's  in  wid  yer  on  de  new  lay  ?" 


126  GEACIE  S    GODSON 

"  Got  Vanderbilk  for  a  pardner,  Baby  ?" 
These  and  similar  inquiries  received  no  atten- 
tion, and  the  temper  of  the  crowd  went  through 
a  variety  of  hasty  changes,  until  it  rose  to  a  state 
of  high  excitement.  Then  the  Baby  desisted  from 
his  labors  and  condescended  to  explain. 

"  See  here,  there's  a  lot  o'  sick  kids  in  that 
house.  Not  very  sick,  but  too  sick  to  be  let  out. 
Nothin'  them  kids  likes  so  much  as  rattlin'  on 
these  here  rails.  If  they  can't  do  it  themselves, 
they  hanker  to  hear  it.  Cry  for  it  all  clay  long. 
Just  tickled  to  death  when  we  started  in  this 
afternoon.  Mother  called  me  in,  and  offered  me 
a  half  to  keep  it  up  till  supper -time.  What's 
papers  to  that  ?  Oh  yes ;  I  guess  not.  You  let 
me  alone ;  I've  struck  it  solid  this  stretch,  I  tell 
yer." 

"  Say,  Baby,  did  she  pay  yer  down  ?" 
"  Never  you  mind ;  the  pay's  all  safe.     Stand 
out  o'  the  way  there." 

"  Goin'  to  let  us  in,  Baby,  ain't  yer  ?" 
"  What  '11  I  let  yer  in  for?    This  job  belongs 
to  me." 

"Ain't  we  goin'  to  get  nothin'  for  what  we've 
been  doin'  ?  We've  been  hard  at  work  amusin' 
dem  kids  for  nigh  an  hour.  We  don't  go  round 
serenadin'  sick  kids  free  gratis  dis  year,  does  we, 
fellers?" 


gracie's  godson  127 

"JSTot  if  we  knows  it,"  was  the  tenor  of  the 
general  cry. 

"Look  a-here,  Jim  Broggins,"  said  the  Baby, 
addressing  the  tallest  and  leanest  of  the  pack, 
and  assuming  an  accent  of  wounded  virtue,  "what 
d'yer  want  to  break  me  up  for  ?  Just  you  go 
along  and  spot  a  house  for  yerself  that's  got  sick 
kids  into  it.  I  ain't  a-tryin'  to  crowd  you  out 
nowhere." 

"  Oh,  ain't  yer  ?"  rejoined  the  lank  Broggins. 
"  Well,  we  ain't  agoin'  to  be  crowded  out  here, 
neider.  What  d'yer  say,  fellers  \  We've  been 
buildin'  up  a  business  all  de  afternoon,  and  as 
soon  as  it  begins  to  pay,  de  Baby  he  waltzes  in 
and  scoops  de  profits.  Wants  to  play  it  on  us, 
he  does.  Well,  it  don't  go.  Yer've  got  to  square 
wid  us  Baby,  or  we'll  make  yer  keep  still,  any- 
way." 

A  loud  chorus  of  assent  attested  the  universal 
agreement  in  this  decision,  and  the  Baby,  artfully 
allowing  his  countenance  to  fall,  appeared  greatly 
dejected. 

"What's  the  good  of  half  a  dollar  among  a 
dozen  of  us  ?"  he  said,  moodily. 

"No  good  at  all,"  answered  Broggins,  promptly. 
"  She's  got  to  give  more.  De  idea  of  expectin' 
us  to  entertain  a  lot  o'  lazy  kids  at  dat  cheap 
figure.     You  go  and  fix  it,  Baby." 


128  GKACIE  S    GODSON 

"  No  use,''  objected  the  wily  speculator,  shak- 
ing his  head  emphatically. 

"  Den  yoiCll  shut  up  shop,  clat's  all." 

"  Tell  yer  what  I'll  do,  Jim  Broggins,"  the 
young  diplomatist  said,  after  a  moment  of  pre- 
tended meditation.  "  Step  over  here,  you  and 
our  partic'lar  chums." 

He  beckoned  half  a  dozen  of  his  special  allies, 
and  confided  to  them  privately  that  while  it  was 
out  of  the  question  to  look  for  any  Such  remu- 
neration as  would  satisfy  the  entire  assemblage, 
there  was  a  possibility  that  he  might  persuade  the 
lady  to  give  enough  for  the  needs  of  a  select 
committee  like  themselves.  For  the  small  fry  it 
would  not  matter.  They  could  be  frozen  out.  If 
they  put  on  airs,  they  should  be  summarily  dealt 
with.  He  would  do  his  best  to  get  the  terms 
fixed  at  a  quarter  apiece  for  the  six  of  them,  and 
if  any  fellow  thought  he  could  drive  a  better  bar- 
gain, let  him  go  up  and  try. 

"  Go  it,  Baby ;  you're  de  daisy  !"  shouted  Brog- 
gins ;  and  his  sentiments  were  enthusiastically 
echoed  by  the  new  combination. 

In  supposed  pursuance  of  this  object,  the  del- 
egate returned  to  the  house  and  held  his  brief 
second  interview  with  Mrs.  Sheldon.  "When  he 
came  forth  again,  the  gloom  of  unutterable  woe 
and  disappointment  was  stamped  upon  his  brow. 


ORACIE  S    GODSON  129 

"What's  up,  Baby?    Won't  she  come  to  time?11 

"  She's  a  stiff  'un,  fellers.  Said  she'd  set  her 
dog  on  me,  if  she  warn't  afraid  my  clothes  would 
p'ison  him." 

"What  for?" 

"  I  told  her  the  whole  story,  and  said  we'd  do 
it  up  handsome  for  a  dollar  'n'  a  half  all  round, 
every  afternoon.  She  just  stuck  out  her  chin  and 
made  faces.  Then  I  asked  her  what  she'd  agree 
to,  and  she  said  half  a  dollar,  and  no  more.  I 
told  her  we  couldn't  afford  it,  nohow  ;  that  we'd 
got  an  organization  and  would  go  on  strike,  every 
one  of  us,  if  she  didn't  meet  us  fair  and  liberal. 
I  thought  that  would  scare  her,  but  she  up  and 
laughed.  '  I  kin  git  a  boy  any  time  to  do  it  for 
a  half,  or  less,'  says  she.  '  Bet  yer  what  yer 
like  yer  can't,'  says  I, '  not  when  we're  on  strike.' 
'Why  not  ?'  says  she.  '  Cause  we'll  up  and  bycutt 
him,'  says  I.  '  What  d'yer  mean  by  that  ?'  says 
she.  '  Why,'  says  I, '  we'll  roll  him  in  the  gutter 
and  scrub  him  with  brick-bats  if  he  tries  it  on.' 
'  Oh,'  says  she,  '  that's  bycuttin,  is  it  ?'  '  That's 
the  size  of  it,'  says  I, '  only  sometimes  it's  bigger.' 
'  Well,'  says  she,  '  I  kin  buy  all  the  fence  music 
I  want  for  half  a  dollar  a  day,  and  you  may 
consider  yourself  discharged.'  'Good  enough, 
ma'am,'  says  I;  'you  an'  yer  kids  '11  have  no 
more  fun  out  o'  them  iron  railin's  till  yer  plank 


130  GEACIE  S   GODSON 

down.'  Then  she  went  sassy,  and  let  on  abont  the 
dog,  and  insulted  me  clothes,  and  I  got  out  in  a 
hurry.  But  never  mind,  fellers.  Let  her  find 
out  we're  in  earnest,  and  she'll  have  to  give  in. 
Do  what  I  tell  yer,  and  we're  dead  sure  to  win 
this  trick." 


IV 


A  wild  howl  of  rage  bore  testimony  that  the 
orator  had  rightly  estimated  the  spirit  of  his 
party.  After  a  very  brief  deliberation  it  was 
unanimously  resolved  that  no  sound  of  cheerful 
clangor  should  be  permitted  to  arise  from  the 
fence  from  that  time  forth.  The  "  kids  "  should 
have  none  of  their  favorite  lullaby  until  the 
mother  was  prepared  to  pay  for  it  at  the  fair 
and  reasonable  valuation  stipulated  by  the  com- 
mittee through  their  authorized  representative. 
The  league  of  six  was  divided  into  sections  for 
patrol  duty,  and  in  case  of  any  attempt  by  a 
stranger,  or  by  the  smaller  bo}rs  of  the  present 
crowd,  to  perform  at  reduced  prices  to  the  injury 
of  the  union,  an  alarm  was  to  be  given,  and  a 
general  rally  called  for  the  suppression  of  cheap 
labor.  This  state  of  things  was  to  be  maintained 
for  a  week,  or  longer  if  necessary ;   but  it  was 


GRACIE  S    GODSON  131 

felt  that  grinding  capital,  in  the  person  of  the 
lady  of  the  house,  could  not  hold  out  more  than 
a  day  or  two  in  face  of  the  opposition  organized 
and  directed  by  the  newsboy  and  his  indignant 
retinue. 

At  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  Baby,  care- 
ful to  avoid  detection  by  his  mates,  presented  him- 
self, according  to  appointment,  at  Mrs.  Sheldon's 
door.  He  was  admitted  by  a  servant,  who,  under 
instructions,  led  him  once  again  to  the  sick- 
chamber.  The  fond  mother  could  not  doubt 
that  it  would  gratify  the  boy  to  be  received 
there  —  to  witness  for  himself  the  beneficial 
change  brought  about  by  a  few  hours  of  undis- 
turbed repose,  and  to  be  rewarded  by  the  little 
girl's  acknowledgments,  as  well  as  her  own. 
She  hoped  that  he  would  thus  be  inspired  to  re- 
newed exertions  on  behalf  of  the  patient  for 
whose  welfare  he  was  striving,  at  least  in  part. 
It  did  not  seem  credible  to  her  loving  heart  that 
even  the  most  abandoned  of  his  class  could  look 
upon  that  frail  and  delicate  creature  without  be- 
ing touched  by  sympathy  and  stirred  by  unselfish 
emotions.  She  believed,  moreover,  that  by  this 
unusual  mark  of  confidence  she  could  appeal  to 
the  sense  of  humanity  that  must  be  lingering 
somewhere  within  him,  and  in  this  manner  con- 
fer a  better  return  for  his  service  than  that  of  the 


132  gracie' s  godson 

mere  payment  in  money.  It  would  have  been 
hard  to  convince  her  that  all  these  fancies  were 
based  upon  an  entirely  misplaced  faith,  and  that 
it  was  utterly  beyond  her  power  to  kindle  a 
spark  of  generosity  in  that  hardened  and  unen- 
lightened soul.  A  face  like  his,  she  told  herself 
too  trustfully,  surely  could  not  represent  a  wholly 
evil  mind. 

The  invalid  was  wide  awake  when  he  entered, 
and  as  he  stepped  to  the  bedside  he  pulled  off 
his  cap  with  a  quick  movement,  and  deposited  it, 
as  before,  in  the  bosom  of  his  shirt.  Either  he 
remembered  the  admonition  of  the  afternoon,  or 
a  new  instinct  of  propriety  had  dawned  upon 
him.  He  did  not  open  his  mouth,  but  waited  for 
some  other  person  to  break  the  silence. 

"  Gracie  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Sheldon,  "here  is  the 
little  boy  who  stopped  the  noise  in  the  street  for 
you.    We  could  have  done  nothing  without  him." 

The  child  fixed  her  eyes  earnestly  upon  him 
before  replying. 

"  I'm  so  glad,"  she  presently  murmured.  "  It 
did  hurt  me  dreadfully,  mamma." 

"  Won't  you  thank  him  for  the  pains  he  took  V 
continued  Mrs.  Sheldon. 

"  He  knows  I  thank  him,"  answered  Gracie  ; 
"  of  course  he  knows." 

"I  thank  you  too,"  said  the  mother.     "We  are 


GKACIE  S   GODSON  133 

all  grateful.  She  could  not  sleep  until  you  sent 
the  boys  away.  You  can  see  how  much  good 
you  have  done." 

"Will  he  always  be  as  good  ?"  inquired  Grade- 

"  Ask  him,  dear." 

"  Will  you  2"  said  the  child,  again  turning  her 
gaze  upon  him. 

He  glanced  first  at  Grade,  and  then  at  Mrs. 
Sheldon,  with  a  very  uneasy  expression.  This 
sort  of  questioning  was  not  in  his  calculations. 
Were  they  trying  to  make  him  forget  that  they 
owed  him  half  a  dollar?  No  ;  the  little  girl  was 
too  sick  to  be  put  up  to  any  such  trick  as  that.  She 
wasn't  the  kind,  either,  to  play  shabby  games  on 
a  fellow.  What  eyes  she  had  —  how  big  and 
bright ;  though,  it  was  the  disease,  to  be  sure, 
that  made  them  so  big  and  bright.  He  won- 
dered how  they  looked  when  she  was  well.  Did 
she  speak  that  way  when  she  was  up  and  run- 
ning about — so  soft  and  chirpy?  "Just  like  a 
bird  might,"  he  thought,  "if  a  bird  could  say 
things." 

"  Will  you  be  good  again,  and  not  have  any 
noise  to-morrow  ?"  asked  Grade,  once  more. 

The  boy  nodded  his  head  affirmatively,  but 
gave  no  response  in  words.  Possibly  he  was  con- 
scious of  the  absurdity  of  binding  himself  by  a 
ridiculous  pledge  to  "  be  good,"  though  ready  to 


134  GEACIE  S    GODSON 

adhere  to  the  more  practical  part  of  his  agree- 
ment. 

"  He  has  promised,  dear;  I  know  he  will,"  said 
Mrs.  Sheldon.  "  And  now  say  good-night ;  yon 
mustn't  talk  any  more." 

"  Good-night,"  repeated  Gracie,  smiling  at  him 
from  her  pillow.     k'  Come  again  soon." 

He  seemed  on  the  point  of  answering  in  some 
fashion,  when  the  nurse  walked  into  the  room  and 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  discontent  at  seeing 
him.  Instantly  his  face  grew  dark  and  morose, 
and  he  drew  away,  muttering,  "Gi'  me  my  half- 
dollar  and  let  me  go." 

Mrs.  Sheldon  went  for  the  money  to  a  toilet- 
stand  in  a  corner,  upon  which  several  pieces  of 
jewelry  were  lying  exposed.  The  boy  followed 
her  movements  with  a  strained  attention.  Had 
she  perceived  the  fierce  avidity  with  which  his 
eyes  rested  upon  the  flashing  gems,  she  would 
have  hesitated  to  indulge  the  kindly  purposes  she 
had  in  view,  and  recognized  the  weakness  of  at- 
tempting reclamation  by  any  means  at  her  com- 
mand. But  her  amiable  disposition  prompted 
her  to  judge  all  who  came  near  with  the  utmost 
charity ;  and  even  in  this  extreme  case  she  could 
make  no  exception. 

For  several  successive  days  the  Baby  main- 
tained his  hold  upon  her  consideration  by  the 


_)n 


GRACIE  S    GODSON  135 

thoroughness  with  which  he  performed  the  duty 
he  had  assumed.  It  needed  all  the  ingenuity  he 
could  exercise  to  preserve  discipline  among  his 
disorderly  band,  but  through  a  full  week  he  suc- 
ceeded in  keeping  their  expectations  alive,  and 
persuading  them  that  their  true  policy  was  to 
wait  for  overtures  from  the  other  side.  At  the 
end  of  this  time  Gracie's  recovery  was  so  nearly 
assured  that  Mrs.  Sheldon's  worst  apprehensions 
had  disappeared.  The  child  would  soon  be  well 
enough  to  be  removed  to  the  country,  and  the 
noises  of  the  street  were  no  longer  likely  to  cause 
her  serious  injury. 


V 

The  Baby  came  regularly  each  evening  for  his 
stipend.  Once  or  twice  he  was  seen  by  Mr. 
Sheldon,  who  chaffed  him  to  a  point  of  high 
irritation.  Mr.  Sheldon  also  chaffed  his  wife, 
declaring  that  she  had  been  duped  by  a  midget 
of  an  impostor ;  that  a  word  to  the  police  would 
have  accomplished  everything  the  tatterdemalion 
pretended  to  secure ;  and  that  the  warm-hearted 
lady  had  simply  been  carried  away  by  the  delu- 
sive good  looks  of  the  young  scamp,  and  cajoled 


136  GRACIE  S    GODSON 

into  the  belief  that  he  was  better  than  the  aver- 
age of  his  order  by  the  light  of  his  large  blue 
eyes,  the  glow  of  his  complexion,  and  the  glitter 
of  his  golden  hair.  But  Mr.  Sheldon  knew  per- 
fectly well  all  the  while  that  the  protection  of 
the  police  could  have  been  obtained  in  such  a 
matter  only  at  great  trouble  and  cost,  if  at  all ; 
and  he  was,  in  fact,  well  contented  to  avail  him- 
self of  the  newsboy's  agency,  without  inquiring 
too  curiously  as  to  the  methods  employed.  He 
was  correct,  however,  in  his  supposition  that  the 
lad  was  no  better  than  the  average  of  his  tribe. 
He  might  have  gone  a  great  deal  further.  The 
Baby  was  not  only  much  worse  than  the  average, 
but,  through  corrupt  associations  and  debasing 
influences,  had  reached  a  depth  of  badness  below 
which  it  would  scarcely  have  been  possible  for 
him  to  descend. 

Throughout  the  whole  of  his  unhappy  life  the 
poor  outcast  had  had  no  chance.  He  knew  noth- 
ing of  his  father  or  mother,  and  had  never  heard 
even  his  own  name.  He  had  grown  to  his  pres- 
ent age  in  the  midst  of  the  most  depraved  sur- 
roundings, and  been  taught  to  believe  that  the 
only  natural  laws  were  those  of  self-preservation 
and  indiscriminate  pillage.  In  conformity  to 
these,  he  kept  no  earthly  end  in  view  but  the 
immediate  satisfaction  of  his  individual  necessi- 


GRACIE  S    GODSON  137 

ties.  He  was  a  newsboy  not  especially  by  in- 
clination, but  because  this  calling  helped  him  in 
the  easiest  way  to  a  livelihood.  He  would  have 
preferred  to  steal,  and  meant  to  when  he  grew 
older,  but  the  time  for  adopting  that  agreeable 
and  exciting  vocation  as  a  regular  career  had  not 
yet  arrived.  If  opportunities  presented  them- 
selves, however,  there  was  no  reason  why  he 
should  not  turn  them  to  account ;  and  unless  he 
was  greatly  mistaken,  one  of  the  prime  opportu- 
nities of  his  life  was  now  beckoning  him  to  im- 
prove it. 

"What  had  hitherto  stood  most  in  the  way  of 
his  ambition  was  the  deplorable  effeminacy  of  his 
personal  appearance.  With  the  spirit  of  a  man, 
as  he  imagined,  he  was  disgraced  by  the  exterior 
of  a  girl.  He  would  have  given  anything  to 
exchange  the  good  looks  which  by  some  freak 
of  circumstance  clung  to  him  through  all  vicis- 
situdes for  the  utmost  coarseness  and  ungainli- 
ness  that  nature  could  provide.  "When  he  was 
younger  he  had  lain  awake  nights  fretting  over 
this  irremediable  misfortune.  For  a  while  he 
would  not  admit  to  himself  that  it  was  irremedi- 
able. He  was  not  prepared  to  go  to  the  length 
of  damaging  his  sight  or  destroying  the  useful- 
ness of  his  teeth,  but  he  ardently  envied  the 
bleared  eyes  and  tobacco -stained  fangs  of   the 


138  GEACTE  S   GODSON 

"toughs"  whom  he  admired.  He  did  his  best 
to  hide  the  odious  red  and  white  of  his  skin 
under  coatings  of  grime,  and  tortured  his  inven- 
tion to  discover  schemes  for  reducing  his  hair  to 
subjection.  This  was  the  severest  of  his  trials. 
He  once  prevailed  upon  a  friendly  shoeblack  to 
"shine  his  head  up"  and  put  a  first-class  five- 
cent  polish  on  his  tawny  mane,  but  the  result 
was  not  sufficiently  lasting  to  be  thoroughly  ap- 
proved. A  companion  fertile  in  suggestion  pro- 
posed shaving  his  crown  and  pricking  india-ink 
into  the  scalp,  but  it  could  not  be  shown  that 
this  expedient  had  ever  been  successfully  prac- 
tised, and  it  was  dismissed  without  a  test.  It 
might  be  true,  the  Baby  admitted,  that  you 
could  take  the  curl  out  of  a  puppy's  tail  by  cut- 
tins:  it  off,  but  that  was  because  the  tail  would 
not  grow  again,  whereas  a  boy's  hair  would 
grow ;  and  it  was  a  question  which  never  could 
be  answered  to  his  satisfaction,  whether  the  curl 
in  his  case  was  not  a  more  burdensome  affliction 
than  the  color. 

During  all  his  visits  to  the  sick  girl's  cham- 
ber the  young  rogue's  thoughts  were  bent  upon 
plunder.  His  quick  sight  had  caught  the  glim- 
mer of  the  jewels  upon  the  toilet -stand,  and  he 
had  listened  greedily  to  the  statement  that  the 
windows  were  left  open  at  all  times.     He  had 


gkacie's  godson  139 

observed  that  a  trellis  thinly  covered  with  vines 
was  affixed  to  the  front  of  the  house,  and  after 
diligent  examination  from  without  and  within  it 
was  plain  to  him  that  no  extraordinary  agility 
would  be  required  to  effect  a  secret  entrance. 
He  did  not  know  whether  the  little  invalid  was 
ever  left  alone  at  night,  but  this  he  would  en- 
deavor to  learn.  At  any  rate,  there  would  prob- 
ably be  no  wide-awake  watch  kept  when  she 
began  to  get  really  better. 

On  his  second  evening  call  Gracie  greeted  her 
odd  visitor  almost  like  an  acquaintance.  With 
her  pretty  smile  and  pleasant  voice  she  bade  him 
welcome,  and  told  him  she  was  ever  so  obliged 
for  the  quiet  and  comfortable  day  he  had  given 
her.  As  before,  he  manifested  no  desire  to  be 
sociable;  but  since  it  was  to  his  advantage  to 
make  himself  as  familiar  as  possible  with  the  lo- 
cality, he  thought  it  well  to  prolong  his  stay  by 
entering  into  conversation. 

"What  is  your  name?''  asked  Gracie,  as  he 
stood  looking  stolidly  at  her. 

"Nem'mind  my  name,"  he  said;  less  gruffly, 
however,  than  when  Mrs.  Sheldon  had  put  the 
same  question. 

"But  you  must  tell  me,"  insisted  the  child. 
"  How  can  I  talk  to  you  if  I  don't  know  your 
name  ?" 


140  GKACIE  S   GODSON 

"  Well,  some  folks  calls  me  Baby,"  he  replied, 
half  sheepishly,  half  defiantly. 

"Why,  that's  what  mamma  and  papa  often 
call  me !"  exclaimed  Gracie.     "  How  funny  1" 

"  That's  all  right,"  the  boy  exclaimed.  "  You 
are  a  baby ;  I'm  a  man  !" 

"  Oh !"  said  Gracie,  somewhat  doubtfully.  "  But 
you  ought  to  have  a  name,  and  Baby  belongs  to 
me.     I  shall  call  you  Robin." 

"Why  Robin,  dear?"  her  mother  inquired. 

"  Because  his  face  is  like  my  picture  of  Robin 
Goodfellow,  and  he  has  been  good  to  me ;  that's 
one  reason.  Then  look  at  him,  mamma — he's  all 
red,  just  like  a  real  robin ;  don't  you  see  ?" 

The  Baby  mumbled  in  a  manner  denoting  dis- 
satisfaction. The  compliment  made  no  impres- 
sion on  him,  and  the  allusion  to  his  distinguish- 
ing hue  offended  his  pride.  Still,  if  she  wanted 
to  call  him  Robin,  why  not?  It  sounded  nice 
and  comfortable,  as  she  said  it,  and,  so  far  as  he 
could  judge,  it  was  an  improvement  upon  either 
of  his  more  familiar  titles. 

From  that  time  he  was  Robin  to  the  child  and 
to  all  who  saw  him  in  the  Sheldon  house,  saving 
the  nurse,  whose  aversion  never  diminished,  and 
who  refused  to  speak  of  him  except  as  "  the  brat " 
to  the  servants,  and  "  that  saucebox  "  to  her  em- 
ployers.    Her  hostility  did  not  make  it  appear 


gracie's  godson  141 

at  all  necessary  to  Mrs.  Sheldon  that  he  be  ex- 
cluded from  the  premises.  She  was  pleased  with 
anything  in  which  her  darling  found  even  a  tri- 
fling interest,  and  she  also  continued  to  harbor 
the  fancy  that  it  was  for  the  good  of  the  way- 
ward vagrant  to  breathe,  if  only  for  once  or 
twice  in  his  life,  an  atmosphere  made  pure  and 
wholesome  by  influences  unknown  in  the  sphere 
to  which  he  belonged. 


YI 


Foe  six  consecutive  evenings  the  newsboy  re- 
appeared, always  receiving  his  half-dollar,  al- 
though towards  the  end  he  displayed  an  unac- 
countable reluctance  v  to  taking  the  money  in 
Gracie's  presence.  On  his  last  regular  arrival 
he  was  informed  that  the  nurse  was  no  longer  in 
attendance.  This  satisfied  him  on  more  grounds 
than  one.  He  detested  her  cordially,  in  the  first 
place,  and  he  also  knew  that  her  absence  would 
facilitate  the  execution  of  the  difficult  scheme 
which  he  was  planning.  Already  he  was  on 
fairly  easy  terms  with  the  child,  and  the  assur- 
ance that  his  particular  enemy  was  out  of  the 
way  made  him  quite  cheerful. 


142  GRACIES   GODSON 

"  I'm  all  well  now,  Robin,"  said  Gracie.  "  Mam- 
ma won't  let  me  get  up  yet,  but  I'm  truly  well. 
You  ought  to  be  glad  of  that." 

"  So  I  am,"  he  replied,  shortly. 

"  Mamma  thought  once  that  I  was  going  to 
die." 

"  Oh  no ;  guess  not." 

"  She  did,  and  so  did  you.  I  heard  you  say  it, 
Eobin." 

He  felt  his  face  flush  and  scorch  him,  at  which 
he  was  very  angry.  "  Didn't  mean  to,"  he 
growled. 

"  But  I  knew  you  were  sorry,"  she  said,  con- 
solingly. "  Never  mind  ;  I  shall  soon  be  as  strong 
as  ever.  Nurse  has  gone,  and  I'm  going  to  sleep 
alone  every  night." 

"  Shouldn't  think  they'd  let  yer,"  he  whis- 
pered, glancing  stealthily  round  at  Mrs.  Sheldon, 
who  was  busy  in  another  part  of  the  chamber. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  always  do  when  I'm  not  sick. 
Of  course  papa  and  mamma  are  in  the  next 
room,  and  the  door  stays  open." 

«  O'  course." 

"And  a  fortnight  from  to-morrow  we  shall 
go  to  the  country,  if  I  am  able  to  travel  so 
soon." 

The  boy  started,  and  looked  keenly  into  her 
face.     He  had  not  hitherto  given  himself  time 


GKACIE  S   GODSON  143 

to  follow  out  all  the  consequences  of  her  re- 
covery. 

"A  fortnight  from  to-morrow — Friday,"  he 
said,  slowly.  "  That  '11  be  the  1st  of  August,  I 
reckon." 

"  I  don't  know.  You'll  come  and  see  me  be- 
fore then  V 

"  I'll  come  if  yer  mother's  willin'." 

"  Indeed  she  will  be.  Mamma,  Kobin  must 
promise." 

The  mother  made  no  objection.  He  under- 
stood, however,  that  the  nightly  calls  were  not 
to  be  continued.  Mr.  Sheldon  had  notified  him 
that,  as  the  term  of  his  contract  was  at  an  end, 
the  daily  allowance  of  fifty  cents  would  be 
stopped ;  but  had  added  that  in  case  there  should 
be  no  renewal  of  the  street  disturbances  during 
the  next  two  weeks,  he  might  look  for  a  good 
round  sum — say  five  dollars.  The  Baby  knew 
perfectly  well  that  there  would  be  no  more  trou- 
ble with  the  fence.  The  boys  had  grown  tired 
of  the  business,  and  had  chosen  another  locality 
for  their  pla}Tground.  He  was  not  such  an  idiot, 
however,  as  to  give  this  fact  away  to  the  Shel- 
dons.  He  told  them  he  should  have  to  be  on 
watch  all  day  long,  that  it  was  the  toughest  job 
he  ever  put  his  fist  to,  and  that  it  was  wearing 
the   flesh   off   his  bones.      Oh  yes,  the   money 


144  GEACIE  S    GODSON 

would  be  well  earned,  and  he  would  turn  up 
without  fail  at  the  right  time  to  get  it. 

After  obtaining  all  requisite  information  on 
this  point,  the  Baby  withdrew.  He  was  partic- 
ularly grumpy  about  accepting  the  last  half- 
dollar  which  Mrs.  Sheldon  proffered  him,  and 
snappishly  refused  to  recognize  its  existence  un- 
til he  was  out  of  Grade's  room.  But  he  took  it 
readily  enough  then,  and  would  have  taken  a 
dozen  more  with  all  the  pleasure  in  life  if  he 
could  have  laid  his  hands  upon  them. 

The  fortnight  went  by,  and  he  again  stood,  at 
a  late  hour  of  the  evening,  by  Grade's  bedside. 
Many  times  during  the  interval  he  had  prowled 
about  the  neighborhood  after  dark ;  but  he  had 
taken  good  care  to  escape  observation,  and,  in- 
deed, had  not  usually  commenced  his  wanderings 
until  after  respectable  citizens  had  gone  to  sleep. 
No  one  in  the  house  suspected  how  constant  and 
vigilant  his  attendance  had  been. 

"  How  long  it  is  since  I  have  seen  you,  Kobin  !" 
said  the  child.     "  I  have  missed  you." 

It  was  quite  true.  The  rough  boy  of  the 
streets  had  an  attraction  for  the  delicately  nurt- 
ured girl,  which  could  be  explained  only  upon 
the  principle  that  the  sharpest  contrasts  are 
often  the  most  closely  drawn  together.  Her 
mother  thought  that  she  regarded  him  with  the 


GRACIE  S   GODSON  145 

same  interest  she  would  have  felt  in  a  big,  shag- 
gy, handsome  dog  or  pony.  Gracie  was  fond  of 
animals,  and  this  was  not  the  first  time  that  her 
fancy  had  been  caught  by  an  out-of-the-wav 
living  plaything. 

"  Yer  father  said  I  was  to  come  to-night,"  an- 
swered the  Baby. 

"But  you  needn't  have  stayed  away  all  the 
time.  I'm  going  to-morrow,  and  you  don't  know 
when  you  will  see  me  again." 

"  I  sha'n't  never  see  yer  no  more,"  he  declared. 

"  Yes,  you  will,  you  foolish  Robin.  You  can 
come  in  the.  morning  and  wish  me  good-bye,  and 
after  I  get  back  in  the  fall  you'll  always  see  me." 

He  shook  his  head,  saying  to  himself  it  was 
no  use  taking  notice  of  such  nonsense.  He  did 
expect  to  see  her  once — just  once — but  she  would 
not  see  him,  or  know  anything  about  it.  A 
pretty  mess  if  she  should  ! 

"  Just  think  of  not  coming  to  see  me,"  she  re- 
sumed, "  after  helping  me  to  get  well !" 

"  D'yer  s'pose  I  did  help  ?" 

"  Be  sure  you  did,  you  naughty  boy.  Mamma 
says  you  kept  everything  still  in  the  street  ever 
so  many  days,  so  that  I  could  sleep  and  rest. 
Don't  you  know  that  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know  a  lot,"  he  replied,  with  a  bit- 
ter vehemence  which  he  could  not  himself  ac- 


146  GKACIE  S    GODSON 

count  for,  and  which  lie  had  no  sort  of  doubt 
was  wholly  unnecessary  and  stupid. 

"Well,  Zsha'n't  forget  it,  Robin  ;  not  ever." 

She  gave  him  a  bright  smile,  which  in  some 
way  made  him  uncomfortable.  She  had  smiled 
at  him  often  enough  before  this,  and  it  had  not 
bothered  him  a  bit  after  the  first.  It  seemed  to 
be  the  right  thing  for  her  to  do,  or  it  might  be 
that  most  things  she  did  seemed  to  be  right. 
P  -t  this  time  he  did  not  like  it. 

r'll  have  to  be  goin',"  he  announced,  abruptly. 
Zes,  it  is  growing  late,"  assented  Mrs.  Shel- 
.  approaching  the  bed. 

"  He  will  come  for  good-bye  to-morrow,"  said 
Gracie. 

"Can't  do  it,  nohow,"  the  Baby  protested. 
"Can't  get  off  work  till  evening." 

"  Then  you  must  bid  her  good-bye  now." 

"  Yes,  I  will."  But  he  paused  a  considerable 
while,  and  then  added,  "  What  '11  I  say  to  her?" 

The  child  laughed  playfully,  and  the  mother, 
not  understanding  his  indecision,  said  :  "  Any- 
thing you  choose — '  Good-bye,  Gracie.'  " 

He  looked  up  at  her  in  hesitation  and  perplex- 
ity.    "  Kin  I  call  her  Gracie  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Certainly  you  may." 

"  That's  my  name,  Robin,"  said  Gracie,  with 
good-humored  gayety. 


GRACIE  S   GODSON  147 

Mrs.  Sheldon  was  struck  by  a  sudden  swift 
change  that  came  over  his  countenance.  For  a 
single  moment  all  the  precocious  hardness  melted 
away,  and  the  expression  he  wore  offered  no 
contradiction  to  the  beauty  of  his  features. 

"  Good-bye,  Grade"  he  repeated.  The  words 
were  indistinctly  uttered,  and  Mrs.  Sheldon  had 
another  cause  for  surprise  in  what  she  took  to 
be  his  unprecedented  diffidence.  Whatever  the 
feeling  was,  it  created  within  him  an  effect  so 
peculiar  and  disagreeable  that  he  lost  no  time  in 
getting  out  of  the  room.  JSothing  exasperated 
him  more  than  the  puzzling  sensations  which  oc- 
casionally came  over  him  when  he  was  in  com- 
munication with  or  thinking  about  the  "  Sheldon 
kid." 

His  spirits  were  brightened  before  he  left  the 
house  by  the  present  of  a  five-dollar  note  from 
the  head  of  the  establishment,  "  for  trying  to 
behave  himself  and  giving  Gracie  something  to 
talk  about."  This  was  intended  by  Mr.  Sheldon 
as  a  token  of  final  dismissal.  He  did  not  ap- 
prove of  certain  plans  which  his  wife  had  partly 
formed  for  the  future,  and  deemed  it  advisable 
to  let  the  ^little  freak"  sink  back  to  his  normal 
obscurity  during  the  absence  of  the  family  from 
town. 

"  You  never  can  make  anything  that  isn't 


148  GEACIE  S    GODSON 

crooked  out  of  that  sort  of  trash,"  lie  affirmed. 
"  Give  him  a  good  send-off,  and  let  him  scamper 
away  out  of  sight  and  mind.  That  will  be  best 
all  around." 


VII 

Four  hours  later  the  Baby  stole  into  the  silent 
street  upon  which  the  Sheldon  house  was  situ- 
ated, and  reconnoitred.  The  night  was  well 
suited  to  his  purpose ;  heavy  clouds  were  in  the 
sky,  and  there  was  no  meddlesome  moonlight  to 
be  feared.  He  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  take 
extraordinary  precautions,  for  he  had  been  in  the 
habit  latterly  of  roaming  through  the  district  at 
all  hours,  and  he  knew  how  deserted  it  was  sure 
to  be  in  the  early  morning. 

"  Never  catch  a  cop  on  this  beat  after  dark," 
he  said  to  himself ;  "  it's  too  genteel." 

He  pushed  back  the  iron  gate  slowty,  to  pre- 
vent it  from  creaking,  and  wedged  a  stone  be- 
neath it  so  that  it  should  not  close  by  itself. 
Then  he  crept  stealthily  across  the  garden,  avoid- 
ing the  gravel-walk  and  stepping  only  on  the 
grass,  until  he  stood  under  the  window  to  which 
he  proposed  to  climb.  The  blinds  were  shut; 
but  he  had  no  doubt  that  he  could  push   them 


G  RAGLE  S    GODSON  149 

aside,  and  he  knew  he  should  find  no  other  ob- 
stacle to  his  admission. 

He  had  brought  with  him  a  fishing  rod  and 
line  of  the  simple  pattern  with  which  boys  of  his 
class  occasionally  waste  their  time  on  the  city 
piers.  Leaning  this  against  the  trellis,  he  started 
upward,  taking  the  greatest  pains  to  keep  from 
rustling  the  vines  or  shaking  the  wood-work.  He 
had  no  difficulty  in  making  his  way  aloft.  His 
shoes  had  been  left  at  home,  and  he  planted  his 
bare  feet  on  the  crossbars  as  noiselessly  and  se- 
curely as  if  he  were  endowed  with  the  acrobatic 
instincts  of  a  chimpanzee. 

"  Couldn't  have  been  better,"  he  chuckled,  "  if 
they'd  ha'  built  it  for  me  o'  purpose." 

When  he  had  gone  as  high  as  the  length  of  his 
fishing-rod  he  stopped  and  wound  a  loop  of  the 
line  around  his  neck,  and  then  proceeded,  carry- 
ing his  odd  implement  in  this  manner.  The  win- 
dow was  about  twenty  feet  from  the  ground.  On 
reaching  it  he  turned  about  and  examined  the 
space  below. 

"  I  kin  risk  a  jump,"  he  reflected,  "  if  old  Shel- 
don wakes  up  and  drives  me  hard.  He  won't 
shoot.     They're  all  too  soft  for  that  here." 

He  did  not  at  first  unfasten  the  blinds,  but 
merely  moved  a  slat  in  its  socket,  and  peered 
through  the  crevice.     A  lamp  was  dimly  burning 


150  GEACIE  S    GODSON 

at  the  bedside,  and  by  its  light  he  could  see 
everything  within  with  sufficient  distinctness. 
Gracie  was  alone,  sleeping  peacefully,  her  sweet 
and  innocent  face  turned  directly  towards  him. 
He  looked  at  her  steadily  for  some  minutes — 
much  longer  than  he  was  aware  of — before  giv- 
ing attention  to  any  other  object.  It  would 
have  satisfied  him  better  if  she  were  not  so  plain- 
ly visible.  Casting  his  eyes  about,  he  perceived 
that  the  door  through  which  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  enter  was  wide  open.  He  remembered 
the  passage  beyond  it,  and  understood  that  the 
parents  must  be  in  the  opposite  chamber.  The 
heavy  breathing  of  a  man  warned  him,  in  fact, 
that  Mr.  Sheldon  was  dangerously  near.  But 
there  was  little  to  be  alarmed  at  in  this  circum- 
stance. It  was  a  good  thing,  on  the  contrary,  to 
be  thus  assured  that  the  head  of  the  household 
was  not  awake.  A  door  on  the  other  side  of  the 
room  was  closed,  and  it  was  not  likely  that  any 
interruption  would  come  from  that  direction. 

Preparations  for  the  journey  of  the  following 
day  had  evidently  been  prolonged  to  a  late  hour. 
Many  articles  were  removed  from  the  toilet-stand, 
and  the  contents  of  a  chest  of  drawers  had  been 
taken  out  and  placed  near  a  trunk.  But  the  jew- 
els which  he  had  longed  to  possess  himself  of 
were  lying  precisely  where  he  had  seen  them, 


GEACIES   GODSON  151 

and  were  almost  within  his  grasp  as  he  stood 
clinging  to  the  window-sill.  INTot  only  these 
shone  in  plain  view,  but  he  also  saw  glimmering 
in  a  velvet-lined  box,  on  the  top  of  the  chest  of 
drawers,  a  cluster  of  gems  which  he  rightfully 
judged  to  be  of  much  greater  value  than  the 
trinkets  with  which  he  was  familiar.  Was  it 
possible  that  he  could  likewise  get  these  into  his 
clutches  ?  Such  good-luck  was  almost  too  much 
to  hope  for.  He  would  not,  at  any  rate,  consider 
the  matter  until  he  had  gathered  in  the  more  ac- 
cessible plunder. 

He  now  swung  the  blinds  gently,  stirring  them 
but  a  fraction  of  an  inch  at  a  time,  to  make  sure 
that  the  hinges  should  not  grate.  "When  they 
were  out  of  his  way,  and  the  whole  breadth  of 
the  window  was  clear,  he  pulled  up  the  fishing- 
rod  and  hung  a  large  hook  at  the  end,  upon  a 
piece  of  line  some  six  inches  in  length.  This  he 
cautiously  pushed  into  the  chamber  until  it  hov- 
ered over  the  toilet-stand,  about  five  feet  in  ad- 
vance of  him.  The  first  object  he  fished  for  was 
a  slender  gold  bracelet.  He  had  considerable 
difficulty  in  getting  the  point  of  the  hook  under 
its  edge,  but  after  this  was  accomplished  it  was 
a  simple  business  to  lift  the  prize  over  to  his 
reach,  to  disengage  it,  and  drop  it  into  his  pocket. 
One  after  another  he  secured  in  the  same  way  a 


152  GRACIE7S   GODSON 

second  golden  bracelet,  a  watch-chain,  and  a 
small  breastpin  in  the  shape  of  a  cross.  He  was 
drawing  this  last  towards  him  when  his  wander- 
ing glance  fell  upon  Gracie.  He  stopped  short, 
and  an  indescribable  thrill  ran  through  him — ■ 
another  of  the  queer  disturbances  to  which  he 
had  latterly  been  subject ;  disturbances  hitherto 
foreign  to  his  experience,  and  all  the  more  un- 
welcome from  his  inability  to  resist  or  explain 
them. 

"These  gimcracks  don't  belong  to  her,  any- 
way," he  meditated.  "  They're  worth  too  much, 
and  they're  too  big — all  except  this  one.  I  might 
shove  this  one  back." 

But  the  impulse  had  barely  shaped  itself  in 
his  mind  when  he  stifled  it  in  angry  disgust  at 
his  folly.  Was  he  losing  his  wits  ?  He  felt  him- 
self turning  red  with  shame.  He  might  as  well 
be  a  baby  in  earnest  if  his  backbone  was  worth 
no  more  than  this  to  him. 

He  deposited  the  little  breastpin  with  the  rest 
of  the  spoil,  and  went  on  hauling  in  a  few  less 
costly  trifles,  with  an  occasional  hungry  look  at 
the  more  substantial  and  tempting  assortment  in 
the  far-away  corner.  There  was  the  making  of 
him  in  that  pile,  he  calculated.  One  ring  alone, 
if  its  gleam  could  be  trusted,  was  equal  to  a 
fortune,  and  there  were  at  least  half  a  dozen 


geacie's  godson  153 

strung  together,  of  various  qualities.  What  were 
his  chances  of  getting  at  them  ?  It  could  do  no 
harm  to  think  them  over,  whether  any  result 
came  or  not. 

Presently  he  detached  the  hook  and  cord  which 
he  had  thus  far  put  to  such  profitable  use,  and 
taking  a  lump  of  soft  putty  from  a  pocket  in  his 
shirt,  moulded  it  into  a  ball  on  the  tip  of  his  pole. 
If  he  could  only  cover  the  distance  to  the  top  of 
the  chest  of  drawers,  and  make  a  dab  at  two  or 
three  of  the  precious  stones,  the  game  might  be 
played  safely  enough.  But  a  single  trial  showed 
that  the  stretch  was  too  great.  It  was  distract- 
ing. Why  had  he  not  brought  a  proper  pole,  in- 
stead of  a  toothpick  like  this?  He  wondered 
if  there  was  time  to  go  in  search  of  another. 
No,  that  was  out  of  the  question.  Yet  to  give 
up  such  a  splendid  mass  of  booty,  when  nothing 
stood  between  it  and  him  but  a  half-dozen  yards 
of  empty  air,  was  enough  to  drive  him  to  frenzy. 

As  he  gazed  ravenously,  the  blood  seemed  to 
run  like  liquid  fire  through  his  veins,  and  a  feel- 
ing of  blind  desperation  took  control  of  him. 
Come  what  might,  he  would  not  leave  without 
an  effort  to  make  those  treasures  his  own.  It 
was  worth  risking  his  liberty  or  his  limbs,  and 
almost  his  life.  A  fury  of  greed  was  upon  him. 
He  lowered  the  fishing-rod  to  the  ground  outside, 


154  GKACIE  S    GODSON 

and  in  an  instant  slipped  through,  the  window, 
alighting  noiselessly  on  the  floor.  The  thick  car- 
pet deadened  his  footsteps,  and  enabled  him  to 
walk  without  a  sound  to  the  open  door.  Closing 
this  with  a  deftness  of  touch  that  showed  he  had 
not  thrown  aside  the  methods  of  prudence  in  the 
madness  of  his  rash  resolve,  he  turned  the  key, 
and  sprang  behind  a  large  arm-chair  for  conceal- 
ment in  case  the  lock  should  snap  so  loudly  as  to 
awaken  the  sleeping  girl.  But  the  click  was 
scarcely  audible,  and  she  did  not  stir. 

Watching  her  narrowly,  he  swiftly  crept 
around  the  bed  and  stood  facing  the  box  which 
contained  the  brilliants.  The  collection  was  not 
so  magnificent  as  he  believed,  but  it  was  dazzling 
enough  to  have  set  the  covetous  instincts  of  a 
much  more  mature  thief  glowing  at  white-heat. 
It  made  him  giddy  to  have  them  so  near  his  eyes. 
And  they  were  all  his,  or  would  be  in  less  than 
five  minutes.  Should  he  take  box  and  all,  or 
transfer  the  contents  to  his  pockets  ?  The  box, 
by  all  means.  It  was  heavy,  but  he  could  get 
it  down  into  the  garden  without  much  effort,  and 
empty  it  there,  comparatively  at  his  leisure. 

Thus  deciding,  he  lifted  it  with  both  hands, 
and  started  to  return  to  the  window. 


"in  an  instant  he  slipped  through  the  window1 


GRACIE  S   GODSON  155 


VIII 

"  Aee  you  looking  at  my  bangles,  Kobin  ?" 

The  voice  was  gentle  and  subdued,  as  he  had 
always  heard  it,  and  the  words  came  in  a  drowsy 
little  murmur,  but  a  thunder-clap  could  not  have 
fallen  upon  the  Baby's  ear  with  a  sharper  shock. 
He  staggered  as  he  set  the  box  down,  and  the 
room  seemed  whirling  around  before  his  eyes ; 
but  even  in  that  moment  of  terror  and  confusion 
his  cunning  did  not  desert  him. 

"  Hush !  hush !"  he  said,  in  a  tremulous  whis- 
per, running  hastily  to  the  bedside.  "  Don't 
speak  so  loud.     Yer  mother's  fast  asleep." 

"  Oh  yes ;  then  she  left  you  to  take  care  of  me, 
I  suppose." 

"  Talk  soft,  I  tell  yer.  She's  all  tired  out.  I'm 
a-lookin'  after  yer  while  she  rests." 

"  Poor  mamma !  I'll  be  ever  so  careful.  Did 
you  come  to  say  good-bye  again  V 

"  Yes,  yes ;  that's  what  I  come  for." 

"  I'm  glad  I  waked  up.  Thank  you,  Robin ; 
you  are  always  a  good  boy.  Do  you  like  to  see 
my  bangles  ?" 

"  Them  things  i     I  seen  'em  just  now." 


156  GKACIE  S   GODSON 

"  Please  bring  them  here ;  I  will  show  you." 
The  boy  obeyed  her  mechanically,  keeping  a 
close  watch  upon  the  door  he  had  locked,  and 
with  every  muscle  ready  for  a  dash  to  the  win- 
dow at  the  slightest  sound  from  another  part  of 
the  house. 

"  But  these  are  not  mine ;  these  are  mamma's. 
Turn  up  the  light,  Robin ;  see  how  beautiful  they 
are.  My  bangles  are  smooth  and  plain.  Won't 
you  look  for  them  ?" 

Her  bangles !     Then   the   things   now  in  his 
pockets  did  belong  to  her  —  some  of  them  at 
least.     He  stared  at  her  wildly  and  half  dazed. 
"  Where'll  I  find  'em  ?"  he  said,  huskily. 
"  What  makes  you  speak  so  strange,  Robin  ?" 
"  So's  not  to  make  a  noise.     Hush  !" 
"  Oh,  but  you  look  strange,  too ;  your  forehead 
is  all  wet." 

"  It's  nothin'.     Lemme  get  your  things." 
He  went  to  the  table,  and  while  pretending  to 
make  a  search,  contrived   to   remove  the  orna- 
ments from  his  pockets  without  being  observed 
by  Gracie. 

"  These  what  yer  want  ?"  he  asked,  return- 
ing. 

"  Yes,  these  are  mine."  She  lifted  the  little 
breastpin  and  held  it  out  to  him.  "  See,  Robin, 
this  was  for  you." 


GKACIE  S   GODSON  157 

"  What  d'yer  mean  ?"  lie  said,  taking  it  from 
her  with  a  shaking  hand. 

"  One  evening,  after  you  went  away,  I  made 
mamma  promise  me — if  I  should  die — to  give  it 
to  you  for  a  keepsake." 

"  No,  yer  didn't !  Yer  didn't  do  it ;  don't  yer 
tell  me  that !"  The  poor  wretch  dropped  the 
cross  upon  the  floor  and  hid  his  face,  now  hag- 
gard and  distorted  with  pain. 

"What's  the  matter,  Robin?  I  didn't  die; 
I'm  well  again,  you  see.     You  mustn't  cry." 

"I  ain't  a-cryin'.  I  never  cried  in  my  life. 
It's  hot  here ;  I'm  goin'  away.  Gi'  me  them 
shiners ;  I'll  put  'em  back ;  I'll  put  'em  all 
back." 

He  did  this  hurriedly,  and  then  picked  up  the 
pin  he  had  let  fall,  and  laid  it  on  the  bed. 

"  You  may  keep  that,  Robin,"  said  the  child. 
"  I  know  mamma  will  let  me  give  it  to  you.  I 
want  }Tou  to  have  it,  because  you  felt  so  sorry 
just  now." 

The  boy  caught  at  his  throat  and  breast  as  if 
he  were  suffocating.  Never  had  he  felt  a  pang 
like  that  which  now  shot  through  him. 

"D'yer  want — to  drag  out — my  heart — and 
stamp  on  it?"  he  gasped.  "No,  no,"  he  added, 
with  a  sudden  change  of  manner;  "don't  be 
frightened.    I  wouldn't  frighten  yer  for  the  whole 


158  GKACIE  S    GODSON 

world — Grade.  I'm  sick,  that's  all.  I'm  not  fit 
to  be  here." 

"Poor  Robin,  how  white  you  are!  No,  I 
never  am  frightened.  But  if  you  are  sick  I  will 
call  mamma." 

"  No,  no,"  he  stammered  ;  "  I'll  be  right  as 
soon  as  I  get  out.  Don't  say  a  word.  Keep  still 
just  a  minute  more." 

"  But  you  must  take  the  cross  to  remember  me 
by." 

"  I  can't  do  it ;  wish  I  could,  but  I  can't.  If 
you  had  some  cheap  thing  to  give  me — " 

"  This  is  cheap  enough,  you  silly  boy.  I  want 
you  to  have  it." 

"  Then  I  will,  and  thank  yer.  And  I'll  say 
good-bye— the  last  time." 

"  Till  I  come  home  again,"  she  answered,  cheer- 
fully. 

"  The  last  time ;  the  last  time !" 

He  sprang  to  the  window,  and  had  one  foot 
over  the  edge  before  she  guessed  his  intention. 
Startled  at  the  unexpected  action,  she  raised  her- 
self on  her  elbow  and  called  out  loudly  :  "  What 
are  you  doing,  Robin  ?     You'll  kill  yourself !" 

He  whirled  about,  and  lifted  his  arm  with  a 
gesture  of  entreaty.  As  he  did  this  the  trinket 
slipped  from  his  fingers  and  fell  upon  the  carpet. 
At  the  same  moment  a  rush  was  heard  in  the 


GRACIE  S    GODSON  159 

passage,  and  a  heavy  blow  was  struck  against 
the  door.  His  head  began  to  spin,  but  though 
dizzy  with  excitement  he  still  had  no  fear  of 
capture,  for  the  door  was  locked,  and  he  knew 
he  could  reach  the  garden  with  a  bound.  Even 
at  this  desperate  crisis  he  had  other  thoughts 
than  those  of  escape. 

"  I  can't  go  without  it !"  he  exclaimed,  darting 
back  and  stooping  for  the  cross.  He  found  it  in 
an  instant,  but  before  he  could  fling  himself  out- 
side of  the  window,  the  child,  roused  to  an  activity 
of  which  he  could  not  have  believed  her  capa- 
ble, leaped  from  the  bed  and  seized  him  by  the 
arm. 

"  You  are  crazy,  Robin  !"  she  screamed. 

"  Lemme  jump !"  he  cried,  hoarsely,  struggling, 
though  not  with  violence,  to  release  himself. 
"  Ter'll  be  the  death  of  me !" 

While  the  words  were  on  his  lips,  the  door  at 
the  extremity  of  the  room,  which  he  had  not 
thought  it  necessary  to  secure,  was  thrown  open, 
and  in  a  flash  Mr.  Sheldon  was  upon  him,  grip- 
ping his  neck  fiercely.  A  second  later  the  boy 
was  sprawling  on  the  floor  and  the  enraged 
father  glaring  down  at  him  with  flaming  eyes. 

"  Oh,  papa,  take  care ;  it's  Robin,"  pleaded 
Grade,  crying  piteously  in  her  agitation  and 
affright. 


160  GRACIE  S    GODSON 

"  Get  back  to  bed,  dear,"  Mr.  Sheldon  replied  ; 
"  I  have  him  safe." 

"  Yes,  yer've  got  me,"  sneered  the  Baby,  "  and 
how  did  yer  get  me  ?  Yer  don't  s'pose  she  could 
ha'  held  me  if — " 

"  If  what,  you  ruffian  ?" 

"  If  I  hadn't  been  afraid  o'  hurtin'  her  ?" 

"  Gracie,  are  you  hurt  ?"  her  father  hastily  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Why,  no,  papa ;  it's  Eobin  !" 

"  Yes,  yes ;  go  to  your  bed." 

Mr.  Sheldon  was  on  the  point  of  calling  for  his 
wife,  when  that  lady  entered,  in  great  alarm. 

"  This  brute  has  broken  into  the  house,"  said 
the  husband,  pointing  to  the  Baby,  who  had  now 
risen.  "And  see;  what's  this  he  has  in  his 
hand?     Gracie's  gold  cross— the  thief!" 

"  I  gave  it  to  him,  papa.  He  didn't  want  to 
take  it,  but  I  made  him." 

"Indeed !  Then  where — "  Mr.  Sheldon  glanced 
around  the  room,  and,  to  his  amazement,  saw  that 
although  the  other  valuables  had  been  somewhat 
disarranged,  they  were  all  apparently  in  or  near 
the  places  where  they  had  been  left. 

"  Why  did  you  come  here?"  said  Mrs.  Sheldon 
to  the  Baby,  more  sternly  than  he  had  ever 
heard  her  speak. 

Loyal  little  Gracie  would  not  leave  her  protege 


"'OH,  PAPA,  TAKE  CARE;  IT6  ROBES,'  PLEADED  GRACIE  " 


GEACIE  S   GODSON  1G1 

undefended.  "He  came  to  bid  me  good-bye 
again,"  she  declared,  with  great  animation,  sit- 
ting upright  in  her  bed. 

"Hush,  my  daughter!"  her  mother  commanded, 
folding  the  grieved  little  creature  in  her  arms. 
"  Say  nothing  unless  you  are  asked." 

"  But  you  don"t  understand,  mamma,"  Grade 
remonstrated,  too  eager  and  anxious  to  yield  the 
accustomed  submission.  "  He  has  been  here  ever 
so  long.  I  showed  him  all  your  ornaments,  and 
we  talked  about  everything." 

"  How  did  he  get  here  ?" 

"I  don't  know;  he  told  me — "  Gracie  checked 
herself,  recalling  the  deception  of  the  lad's  first 
speeches. 

"Well?" 

"  He  told  me  a  story,  I'm  afraid,"  the  girl  con- 
fessed, hanging  her  head. 

"  You  may  be  sure  he  did,"  cried  her  father. 
"The  fellow  is  all  lies.  You  came  in  by  the 
window,  you  impudent  vagabond.  "What  was  it 
for?" 

"  You  heard  what  she  said,"  replied  the  Baby, 
stolidty,  and  hunching  his  shoulders. 

"  I  heard  that,  but  I  want  to  know  the  truth." 

"  George,  if  it  should  be  the  truth,"  said  Mrs. 
Sheldon,  appealingly,  as  the  culprit  remained  si- 
lent.    It  did  not  strike  the  devoted  mother  as  so 


162  GRACIE  S   GODSON 

very  unnatural  that  a  rude  outcast  of  immature 
years  should  have  become  romantically  attached 
to  her  child,  or  that  his  adoration  should  mani- 
fest itself  in  fantastic  escapades. 

"Nonsense,  Helena!  How  can  you  say  such 
things?  Do  you  imagine  a  fellow  like  this  can 
be  moved  by  the  feelings  which  you  attribute  to 
him  %  There !  let  us  end  the  matter.  Look  to 
Gracie,  and  I  will  question  him  in  our  room. 
Are  the  servants  astir  ?" 

"  I  think  not." 

"  Yery  good ;  they  are  not  to  be  called  until  I 
have  need  of  one  of  them." 

Ordering  the  Baby  to  follow  him,  he  went  to 
his  own  chamber.  This  time  Gracie  made  no 
protest.  She  was  sad  and  bewildered.  The  dis- 
covery that  her  Robin  had  been  guilty  of  false- 
hood was  a  stroke  that  shattered  her  simple  faith 
in  him. 

"  Papa  will  do  what  is  right,"  said  her  mother, 
striving  to  soothe  her.  "  You  know  he  never 
wishes  to  be  harsh  or  unforgiving."  But  she 
felt  that  the  boy  had  forfeited  every  claim  to 
forbearance,  and  had  little  hope  that  her  hus- 
band would  be  mercifully  inclined  towards  one 
who  had  so  shamefully  abused  her  kindness  and 
trust. 


GKACIE  S   GODSON  163 


IX 

Mr.  Sheldon  paced  the  floor,  thinking  rapidly. 
The  case  certainly  presented  strange  features. 
He  had  seen  for  himself  that  the  boy  need  not 
have  been  caught  if  he  had  chosen  to  exert  his 
strength  in  repulsing  the  little  girl.  He  had 
stood  almost  passive  while  her  arms  were  wound 
about  him.  That  was  to  be  noted  in  his  favor. 
As  to  the  jewels,  he  had  handled  them  all,  and 
made  no  attempt  to  carry  a  single  one  away,  ex- 
cept the  trifle  wThich  Gracie  insisted  she  had 
forced  upon  him.  Yet  why  should  he  be  in  the 
house  at  all  ?  It  was  a  most  mysterious  business ; 
but  the  more  he  reflected  upon  it,  the  less  he  was 
inclined  to  press  an  investigation.  It  would  com- 
pel him  to  defer  his  visit  to  the  country,  and 
bring  upon  him  and  his  family  a  notoriety  not 
at  all  to  his  taste.  He  particularly  dreaded  the 
ridicule  wThich,  he  foresaw,  would  attach  to  his 
wife  for  the  injudicious  confidence  she  had  lav- 
ished upon  this  young  house-breaker. 

After  deliberating  perhaps  five  minutes,  he 
stopped  walking,  and  announced  his  decision 
thus : 


1G-4  GRACIE  S   GODSON 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  should  waste  time  over  a 
vagabond  of  your  pattern.  It  will  be  more 
trouble  to  me  to  have  you  arrested  than  to  let 
you  run  clear.  You  can  go — though  it  is  better 
luck  than  you  deserve — and  a  good  riddance  to 
you." 

The  Baby  did  not  stir.  He  too  seemed  to 
have  something  to  turn  over  in  his  mind.  He 
waited  so  long  that  Mr.  Sheldon  sharply  bade 
him  bestir  himself  and  leave.  The  only  re- 
sponse was  a  most  unexpected  inquiry  : 

"  Am  I  to  go  for  good  ?" 

"  Good  or  bad,  I  don't  care.  What  do  you 
mean  ?" 

"I  mean,  will  yer  ever  let  me  come  here 
again  ?" 

Mr.  Sheldon  laughed  in  mockery  at  this  daring 
flight  of  audacity.  "  You  have  cheek  enough 
for  a  regiment  of  burglars,"  he  said. 

"  So  I  sha'n't  never  speak  to  her  after  this  ?" 

"Who — my  daughter?  Not  if  I  can  help  it. 
Come  along,  and  make  haste." 

"  Then  I  won't  go,"  said  the  boy,  stubbornly. 

"  You  won't  ?  We  shall  see  about  that !"  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Sheldon,  beginning  to  lose  his  tem- 
per at  this  crowning  exhibition  of  insolence. 

"  I  don't  go  out  of  the  house  no  such  a  way  as 
this.     I'll  stav  where  I  am  till  I'm  run  in,  and 


GRACIE  S    GODSON  165 

then  I'll  take  my  term  in  Sing  Sing.  That's 
what's  the  matter  with  me,  and  yer  may  make 
what  yer  please  of  it !" 

The  Baby's  intention  was  so  energetically 
stated,  and  with  snch  intensity  of  emphasis,  that 
Mr.  Sheldon  more  than  half  suspected  he  was 
dealing  with  a  lunatic ;  but  he  was  not  left  long 
in  this  misconception. 

"  Yer  kin  send  for  a  cop,  and  111  blow  the 
whole  trick.  I  came  here  to  lift  them  di'monds 
and  things — just  that  an'  nothin'  else.  I  had 
half  of  'em  stowed  in  my  pocket  one  time.  I'm 
a  thief,  that's  what  I  am.  Now  bring  along  yer 
police  an'  yer  handcuffs ;  I'm  ready !" 

Here  was  a  real  surprise.  The  rascal  was  in 
earnest;  there  could  be  no  question  about  that. 
He  looked  his  captor  full  in  the  face,  which  he 
had  not  done  before,  and  there  Yvras  a  glitter  in 
his  eye  which  betokened  spirit  at  least,  and  dog- 
ged resolution. 

"  Why  do  you  tell  me  this  V  inquired  the  as- 
tonished gentleman. 

"  'Cause  yer  say  I  sha'n't  see  her  no  more." 

"  Do  you  think  you  are  fit  to  see  her  ?" 

Mr.  Sheldon  was  vexed  with  himself  as  soon 
as  he  put  this  interrogation.  What  business  had 
he  to  be  parleying  with  the  cub  %  The  proper 
course  was  to  get  him  out  of  the  way  as  quickly 


1G6  GRACIE  S    GODSON 

as  possible.  But  he  had  asked  the  question,  and 
would  hear  the  answer. 

"  I  ainH  fit  to  see  her;  I  know  that  well  enough 
— hut  I  want  to^ 

The  Baby's  face  was  ghastly  to  look  at  after 
he  had  uttered  these  words.  His  teeth  were  set 
fast,  the  muscles  of  his  mouth  were  contracted, 
and  his  forehead  was  twisted  and  wrinkled  with 
the  effort  he  made  to  hold  himself  in  restraint. 
Tears  gathered  in  his  eyes — not  such  tears  as 
are  shed  on  light  provocation  of  boyish  grief  or 
shame,  but  tears  that  were  wrung  from  him  by 
an  anguish  the  like  of  which  he  had  never  known 
before,  and  which  he  was  as  unable  to  compre- 
hend as  to  control.  They  scalded  him  as  they 
fell  upon  his  cheeks,  but  he  made  no  attempt  to 
wipe  them  away,  and  kept  his  lids  wide  apart, 
staring  straight  before  him.  He  felt  that  it  was 
a  degrading  weakness  for  one  of  his  stamp  to 
cry  like  a  sick  girl,  but  he  would  not  add  to  it 
the  greater  weakness  of  concealment.  Since  his 
treacherous  nerves  had  given  way  and  allowed 
all  his  pluck  to  forsake  him,  he  could  certainly 
gain  nothing  by  setting  up  a  ridiculous  pretence 
of  fortitude. 

Mr.  Sheldon  was  a  practical  man  of  the  world, 
and  if  anybody  had  related  to  him  the  incidents 
in  which  he  was  now  taking  part  he  would  have 


ORACIE  S   GODSON  167 

laughed  at  the  notion,  that  the  lad  could  be  sin- 
cere. But  the  evidence  of  his  own  senses  could 
not  be  resisted.  The  suffering  was  genuine, 
whatever  the  cause,  and  he  was  not  so  hard  or 
severe  a  man  as  to  be  able  to  witness  it  with- 
out a  shade  of  pity.  Was  it  indeed  conceivable 
that  the  unconscious  influence  of  a  little  child 
had  brought  this  untamed  animal  to  such  a  de- 
gree of  subjugation  ?  He  had  heard  of  similar 
occurrences,  particularly  in  romances  and  on  the 
stage,  but  had  never  considered  them  entitled  to 
much  credit.  Yet  who  should  presume  to  limit 
the  possibilities  of  human  nature,  or  determine 
by  what  hidden  impulses  the  mind  could  be 
swayed  for  good  or  evil  ?  If  the  boy  were  not 
deceiving  himself,  as  well  as  trying  to  deceive 
others,  he  might  be  on  the  verge  of  a  transfor- 
mation through  which  the  plan  of  his  whole  life 
could  be  reshaped.  Had  he,  the  prosperous  and 
fortunate  citizen,  the  right  to  crush  out  this 
chance  that  was  perhaps  struggling  to  assert 
itself  for  the  regeneration  of  a  vagabond  and 
criminal  ? 

He  had  not  often  been  called  upon  to  consider 
his  moral  obligations  towards  people  of  a  lower 
social  station  than  his  own,  and  he  was  by  no 
means  pleased  with  the  position  in  which  he  now 
found  himself  placed.     But  it  was  not  his  habit 


168  GKACIE  S   GODSON 

to  shirk  responsibilities  when  he  once  realized 
that  they  rested  upon  him,  and  after  pondering 
a  while  he  came  to  a  conclusion  which  he  thought 
just  and  reasonable,  and  which  alone,  he  believed, 
could  lead  to  satisfactory  results. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  he  said,  putting  himself  face 
to  face  with  the  self-avowed  thief :  "  This  may 
be  a  more  serious  moment  than  you  suppose,  and 
you  will  do  well  to  drop  all  nonsense  and  take  a 
long  look  ahead.  You  are  free  to  go  now  and 
choose  your  own  road  for  one  year.  I  don't 
want  to  see  you  or  hear  from  you  in  that  time. 
If  you  can  come  at  the  end  of  it,  and  prove  that 
you  have  led  a  decent  life,  and  are  endeavoring 
to  make  a  man  of  }rourself,  I'll  befriend  you — 
and  so  shall  my  little  girl,  if  she  likes.  I  sha'n't 
give  you  a  penny  to  start  with.  If  you're  not 
a  fool,  you'll  know  why ;  if  you  are  a  fool,  it 
doesn't  matter,  for  then  you'll  not  come  back 
anyway.  That  is  all  I  have  to  say.  As  to  the 
future,  it  depends  entirely  upon  what  show  you 
can  make  one  year  from  now." 

The  Baby  drew  a  long  breath.  "  I'll  do  it," 
he  said,  sturdily.  "  To-day's  the  first  of  August, 
eighteen  eighty-nine.  Yer'll  see  me  on  the  first 
of  August,  eighteen  ninety.  I  sha'n't  give  yer 
no  trouble  till  then.  There's — there's  just  one 
thing  yer  might  do  for  me  before  I  go.     I  know 


"SENT   HIM   FORTH   INTO  THE   DARKNESS' 


GEACIE  S   GODSON  169 

I  ain't  got  no  right  to  ask  it,  but  yer  might  be 
willing." 

"You  can't  speak  again  this  night  to  anybody 
here,"  replied  Mr.  Sheldon,  stiffly. 

"  Course  not.  I  didn't  go  to  think  o'  that. 
What  I  meant  was,  perhaps  yer'd  let  me  take 
the  pin  she  gave  me  —  the  bit  of  a  cross.  It'd 
do  me  a  heap  o'  good  if  yer  could.  But  if  yer 
don't—" 

"  Well,  if  I  don't  ?" 

"  No  matter,  then ;  it's  all  right.  Perhaps 
she'll  keep  it  for  me  till  next  year.  "Will  yer — 
will  yer  tell  her  I  spoke  of  it  ?" 

"  You  shall  have  it  now." 

Mr.  Sheldon  then  brought  the  little  clasp,  and 
having  handed  it  to  its  new  owner,  led  him 
down-stairs,  and  sent  him  forth  into  the  dark- 
ness. 

"  A  black  night  for  the  poor  beggar,"  said  the 
man  of  ease  and  prosperity,  as  the  Baby  disap- 
peared in  the  gloom.  "  Will  he  ever  get  a  glimpse 
of  daylight,  I  wonder  ?" 


170  GRACIE  S    GODSON 


X 

Early  the  next  morning  a  soiled  envelope  was 
found  in  the  hall,  with  Mr.  Sheldon's  name  pen- 
cilled upon  it  in  large  and  uneven  letters.  It 
had  been  thrust  under  the  front  door,  and  it 
contained  a  five- dollar  note,  which  was  imme- 
diately recognized  as  the  one  given  by  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house  to  the  Baby  on  the  previous 
evening. 

The  Sheldons  went  to  the  country,  and  re- 
mained two  months.  Shortly  after  their  return 
another  envelope,  cleaner  and  more  carefully  ad- 
dressed, was  left  in  the  same  way  for  Grade's 
mother.  Three  dollars  in  notes  were  enclosed, 
and  a  scrap  of  paper,  on  which  was  written,  "  Six 
halves  =  $3." 

There  was  no  doubt  where  the  money  came 
from,  nor  why  it  was  sent.  Mrs.  Sheldon  was 
much  gratified,  and  her  husband  began  to  hope 
the  lad  was  working  out  his  fortune  in  the  right 
way.  Nothing  was  said  upon  the  subject  to  their 
child,  whose  recollection  of  the  night  of  advent- 
ure grew  dim  as  the  months  rolled  by. 

Summer  came  again,  and  as  the  end  of  July 


GKACIE  S   GODSON  171 

drew  near  Mrs.  Sheldon  frequently  spoke  of  the 
singular  appointment,  and  discussed  the  prospect 
of  the  Baby's  reappearance. 

"  I  shall  be  sadly  grieved  if  he  does  not  come," 
she  said. 

"I  shall  be  disappointed,  too,"  Mr.  Sheldon 
acknowledged.  "It  is  the  only  fairy  story  I 
ever  was  mixed  up  in,  and  if  our  fairy  stories 
can't  end  as  Ave  want  them  to,  what  is  the  use 
of  having  any?" 

"  Why  do  you  call  it  a  fairy  story  ?"  asked  the 
lady. 

"Blind  mother,  where  are  the  eyes  of  your 
imagination  ?"  laughed  her  husband,  as  he  point- 
ed towards  Gracie,  who  sat  in  the  same  room, 
but  out  of  hearing.  "  Can  3rou  look  at  the 
guiding  spirit  of  it  and  repeat  that  question  ?" 

They  were  sojourning  at  a  watering-place  dur- 
ing the  holiday  season ;  but  Mr.  Sheldon  was  so 
much  interested  in  the  result  of  his  experiment 
that  he  willingly  made  arrangements  to  bring 
the  family  to  town  for  a  week,  and  the  1st  of 
August  found  them  temporarily  at  home.  The 
morning  and  afternoon  of  that  day  passed  with- 
out any  sign  from  the  Baby ;  but  this  was  to  be 
expected,  as  Mrs.  Sheldon  was  reminded  when 
she  began  to  show  indications  of  uneasiness. 
And  in  the  evening,  sure  enough,  there  came  a 


172  GRACIE  S   GODSON 

ring  at  the  street  door,  and  a  letter  was  pres- 
ently brought  in  by  a  domestic,  with  this  re- 
quest : 

"  The  messenger  asks  you  to  let  him  stay  in 
the  hall,  sir,  till  you  finish  reading  it." 

Mrs.  Sheldon  was  for  having  him  introduced 
and  her  daughter  sent  for  at  once,  but  Mr.  Shel- 
don checked  her,  saying  that  the  boy's  suggest- 
ion was  a  sensible  one,  and  had  best  be  adhered 
to.  He  opened  the  missive,  and  read  aloud,  as 
follows : 

"The  Enterprise  Bank-note  Co., 
New  York,  August  1,  1890. 
"  Mr.  George  Sheldon  : 

"Dear  Sir,  —  M}^  youngest  employe,  Eobin 
Grace,  has  requested  me  to  send  you  an  exact 
and  unprejudiced  statement  as  to  his  character 
for  honesty  and  uprightness.  It  is  with  unusual 
satisfaction  that  I  accede  to  his  wish. 

"  He  entered  our  establishment  eight  months 
ago  in  the  humblest  capacity,  application  having 
been  made  on  his  behalf  by  a  society  whose  rec- 
ommendation was  sufficient  to  insure  his  admis- 
sion. I  was  informed  that  he  sought  employment 
here,  knowing  that  our  subordinate  attaches  are 
necessarily  subject  to  the  strictest  surveillance, 
on  account  of  the  responsible  nature  of  the  busi- 
ness, and  desiring  especially  to  make  for  himself 


GKACIE  S   GODSON  173 

a  record  under  the  most  rigorous  conditions  that 
could  be  imposed. 

"  I  have  never  been  made  acquainted  with  his 
purpose,  but  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  certify  that 
throughout  his  term  of  service  his  conduct  has 
been  above  reproach.  I  should  be  glad  to  speak 
of  the  intelligence  he  has  shown  in  the  discharge 
of  his  duties,  and  the  general  propriety  of  his 
demeanor,  but  he  begs  me  to  confine  my  testi- 
mony to  the  single  question  of  his  integrity,  and 
in  that  particular  his  reputation  is  unblemished. 

"  If  it  is  your  intention  to  withdraw  him  from 
our  office,  he  will  carry  with  him  the  regard  and 
the  best  wishes  of  his  employers.  If  your  ar- 
rangements permit  him  to  remain,  I  can  promise 
him  the  promotion  of  which  he  has  proved  him- 
self worthy. 

"  I  am,  sir,  yours  very  truly, 

"C.  C.  Alexander." 

It  was  a  charm  to  see  the  light  in  Mrs.  Shel- 
don's eyes  as  she  listened  to  these  words  of  warm 
approval.  Her  heart  was  filled  with  the  content 
of  a  good  woman  who  rejoices  at  the  fulfilment 
of  her  generous  hope  for  a  fellow-being's  rescue 
from  degradation.  She  rose  hastily,  and  left  the 
drawing-room  by  a  side  door,  saying,  "  I  will  send 
Gracie  to  brinir  him  to  us." 


174  gkacie's  godson 

A  minute  later  the  little  girl's  feet  -were  heard 
tripping  through  the  hall.  "  Somebody  for  me  ?" 
she  asked.     "  Come  this  way,  please." 

She  entered  from  the  obscuritj^  followed  by  a 
fine-looking  lad  of  thirteen,  neatly  dressed  in  a 
dark  blue  knickerbocker  suit,  whose  countenance 
shone  with  eager  expectation.  Mr.  Sheldon  would 
not  have  known  him.  Even  his  wife,  who  had 
hastened  back  to  witness  the  reception,  was  un- 
prepared for  so  thorough  a  change.  There  were 
the  same  striking  features,  and  the  clear,  delicate 
complexion,  but  the  uncouth  wildness  was  gone, 
and  the  ungoverned  restlessness  had  given  place 
to  a  quiet  and  respectful  bearing.  He  was  the 
picture  of  a  little  gentleman  as  he  stood  in  the 
doorway  awaiting  recognition. 

"Why,  it's  my  Eobin!"  cried  Gracie,  spring- 
ing towards  him  with  delight.  "  I  always  told 
you  he  was  a  nice  boy.  What  do  you  think  now, 
mamma  2" 

He  had  no  reason  to  complain  of  his  greeting, 
and  a  few  minutes  after  the  first  salutation 
he  was  sitting  at  his  ease  and  chatting  as  free- 
ly as  Grade's  impetuous  interruptions  would 
allow. 

"  How  handsome  you  have  grown !"  she  sud- 
denly exclaimed.     "  Are  you  not  glad  ?" 

"  I'm  glad  if  you  are  satisfied  with  me,"  he 


£§?'■', ,-  ■  .  ix 


GKACIE  S    GODSON  175 

answered,  very  much  flushed.  Possibly  he  was 
not  yet  completely  reconciled  to  the  refine- 
ment and  attractiveness  of  his  personal  ap- 
pearance. 

"  I  see  your  employer  gives  you  3-our  full 
name,"  Mrs.  Sheldon  remarked.  "Have  you 
found  your  parents  ?" 

"  JNo,  ma'am,"  said  the  boy,  turning  still  red- 
der. "I  thought  —  you  know  your  little  girl 
called  me  by  one  name  —  the  only  one  anybody 
ever  gave  me  in  a  friendly  way — and  of  course 
I  kept  that.  But  I  had  to  have  another  when  I 
— when  I — you  know  what  I  mean,  sir — and  I 
thought  perhaps  you  wouldn't  mind  if  I  owed 
her  the  second  one,  too.  But  I  can  change  it  if 
you  don't  like." 

"I  see,"  responded  Mr.  Sheldon;  "Eobin 
Grace;  very  neat  and  very  well  thought  of. 
Gracie,  this  young  man  is  your  godson ;  do 
you  know  that  ?  He  is  doubly  your  godson,  for 
you  have  had  the  naming  of  him  twice  over." 

Gracie  did  not  understand  at  first,  but  when 
it  was  explained  to  her  she  vowed  that  nothing 
could  be  more  to  her  fane}7". 

"  Did  you  really,  Robin,  name  yourself  after 
me  ?  How  good  that  is  !  I  didn't  know  you 
could  do  such  a  thing." 

"  I  hadn't  any  that  really  belonged  to  me— not 


176  GRACIE  S    GODSON 

that  I  ever  heard  of — and  there's  no  name  I — 
not  any  that  I  think  so  much  of.  So  if  your 
father  and  mother  are  willing — " 

"  Keep  it,  my  boy,  keep  it,"  said  Mr.  Sheldon  ; 
"  and  I  hope  it  will  bring  you  good."  He  in- 
tended to  say  more,  but  a  curious  tingling  in  his 
nose,  such  as  gentlemen  of  mature  years  do  not 
like  to  have  come  upon  them  unawares,  prevent- 
ed him  from  continuing.  Mrs.  Sheldon,  being  a 
woman,  did  not  care  so  much  about  preserving 
an  undisturbed  composure,  and  could  let  her 
voice  quaver  without  feeling  humiliated.  So  she 
kept  up  the  conversation  until  her  husband  had 
taken  care  of  the  cold  in  his  head  of  which  he 
suddenly  became  aware. 

"  Well,  Robin,"  he  said  at  length,  "  we  have  a 
great  many  matters  to  settle  in  course  of  time, 
but  the  most  important  question  is,  who  is  to 
take  care  of  you  ?  Shall  it  be  Mrs.  Sheldon,  or 
I,  or  Gracie?  Gracie  has  the  first  right,  I  ad- 
mit; but  perhaps  she  isn't  quite  equal  to  it  just 
at  present." 

"  Oh,  sir,"  replied  the  lad,  overflowing  with 
happiness,  "  I  think  I  sha'n't  have  much  diffi- 
culty in  taking  care  of  myself  in  one  way,  but  if 
anybody  is  to  take  care  of  me  in  the  other  way 
— the  way  you  mean — the  best  way — I  hope  it 
may  be  your  little  daughter.    She  did  something 


GRACIE  S    GODSON  177 

for  me  a  year  ago  that  nobody  else  could  have 
done.  I  didn't  see  how  it  was  then,  but  I  know 
better  now  ;  and  I  guess  there's  no  other  person 
that  can  look  after  me  so  well  for  a  good  many 
years  to  come." 

"Robin,  Robin,  what  funny  things  you  say!" 
cried  Gracie,  to  whose  bright  young  mind  these 
graver  thoughts  were  not  attuned. 

"  Oh  yes,"  he  persisted ;  "  I  sha'n't  willingly 
have  anybody  but  you  for  a  guardian ;  but  in 
case  it  gets  too  much  for  you  sometimes,  per- 
haps your  father  and  mother  will  help  you  a 
little." 

"  There's  not  much  fear  of  that,  my  lad.  Un- 
less I  am  more  mistaken  than  I  ever  was  in  my 
life,  the  day  is  not  likely  to  come  when  you  will 
turn  to  either  of  us  in  vain,  or  when  we  shall  be 
made  to  feel  that  we  have  misplaced  our  interest 
and  confidence  in  Grade's  godson." 

12 


NATTY  BARTON'S   MAGIC 


In  the  very  front  row  of  seats  in  Fenlowe  Hall 
sat  Natty  Barton,  eagerly  waiting  for  the  won- 
ders to  begin.  He  thought  he  had  never  before 
been  so  happy.  Fenlowe  was  a  small  country 
town,  and,  so  far  as  he  could  recollect,  this  was 
the  first  real  magician  that  had  ever  come  there. 
It  was  the  first  public  entertainment  of  any  sort 
that  he  had  attended,  although  he  was  fully 
twelve  years  old.  He  was  too  poor  to  have 
money  for  such  pleasant  purposes.  But  by  a 
happy  chance,  quite  as  marvellous,  Natty  be- 
lieved, as  anything  he  was  about  to  witness,  he 
had  been  standing  in  front  of  the  exhibition 
building  that  afternoon  just  when  the  conjurer 
needed  help  in  arranging  his  materials  on  the 
stage.  Natty  was  called  in  from  the  street,  and, 
being  found  quick  and  willing,  was  rewarded 
with  a  ticket  for  the  evening's  performance.    He 


r'o 


NATTY    BARTON  S    MAGIC  179 

had  no  difficulty  in  getting  permission  to  be  pres- 
ent, and  now,  dressed  for  the  occasion  in  his  best 
clothes,  he  awaited  tile  wizard's  appearance  in  a 
glow  of  delightful  expectation. 

Presently  the  wonder-worker  walked  upon  the 
platform,  leading  a  little  girl  about  ten  years  of 
age,  who,  Natty  said  to  himself,  was  the  prettiest 
child  he  had  ever  beheld.  The  audience  seemed 
to  be  of  the  same  opinion,  and  the  loud  applause 
was  evidently  intended  more  as  a  greeting  to  her 
than  to  her  companion.  But  the  conjurer  had 
no  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  his  reception  as 
soon  as  he  began  to  unfold  the  mysteries  in  store. 
To  the  populace  of  Fenlowe  his  exploits  were 
bewildering.  Natty  was  lost  in  amazement.  Up 
to  that  point  of  his  life  he  had  thought  his  eyes 
could  be  trusted,  but  now  they  were  capable  of 
nothing  but  playing  him  tricks.  Such  funny 
tricks,  too,  that  his  face  ached  with  the  fits  of 
laughter  into  which  he  was  thrown.  When  the 
magician  strolled  up  to  old  Mullins,  the  lessee  of 
the  hall,  and  pulled  a  live  rabbit  out  of  his  waist- 
coat-pocket, the  people  shrieked  with  glee,  and 
Natty  nearly  fell  off  his  seat.  But  the  cross- 
tempered  lessee  did  not  like  it  so  well.  He  mut- 
tered something  disagreeable,  whereat  the  magi- 
cian instantly  drew  a  big  goose  from  the  back  of 
his  neck,  saying,  with  a  roguish  smile, 


180  NATTY    BAETON  S    MAGIC 

"Why,  sir,  do  you  carry  your  family  about 
Avith  you  in  this  way  ?" 

Mullins  looked  very  savage,  but  he  was  disliked 
by  the  whole  town,  and  nobody  cared  except  his 
son,  Ned  Mullins,  who  was  sitting  near  Natty,  and 
who  glared  about  him  with  as  fierce  an  air  as  a 
boy  of  fourteen  could  put  on.  The  performer 
was  somewhat  disturbed  by  the  old  man's  resent- 
ment.   Turning  towards  him,  he  said,  pleasantly : 

"  No  offence,  I  hope,  sir.  My  little  girl  shall 
make  it  up  to  you  when  the  sweetmeats  are 
passed  around." 

"  Perhaps  I'll  make  it  up  to  you,  my  man,  be- 
fore the  night  is  out,"  growled  old  Mullins. 
Then  the  people  hissed  at  him,  and  young  Mul- 
lins grew  red  as  a  lobster,  and  twice  as  ugly. 

The  magician  soon  went  back  to  his  place,  and 
announced  that  he  was  about  to  attempt  an  ex- 
ceedingly difficult  trick,  in  which  he  desired  the 
assistance  of  one  or  two  young  gentlemen  from 
the  audience,  if  they  would  favor  him  by  coming 
upon  the  stage.  Natty  felt  himself  tingling  all 
over.  He  would  have  given  worlds  to  go  and 
stand  near  that  bewitching  little  lady,  but  he  did 
not  dare.  He  was  not  sure  that  the  term  "young 
gentleman"  was  meant  for  a  boy  like  him.  To 
his  astonishment,  however,  Ned  Mullins  left  his 
seat  and  clambered  up  to  the  platform  without 


NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC  181 

the  least  sign  of  embarrassment.  Natty  thought 
he  was  as  much  of  a  young  gentleman  as  Ned 
Mullins  any  day ;  but  still  he  did  not  stir,  al- 
though he  half  fancied  that  he  saw  a  shade  of 
disappointment  in  the  pretty  girl's  countenance. 

"  Another,  please,"  said  the  magician ;  and  as 
he  spoke  he  glanced  right  down  into  Natty's 
eyes.  This  was  as  good  as  a  direct  invitation; 
so  Natty,  very  much  agitated,  hastened  to  re- 
spond. He  was  as  red  as  Ned  Mullins  when  he 
reached  the  stage,  but  not  so  ugly,  by  many  de- 
grees. The  little  girl  nodded  to  him,  and  that 
made  him  more  comfortable,  for  he  was  sure 
she  had  not  done  anything  of  the  kind  when  Ned 
Mullins  approached  her. 

The  necromancer  began  his  feat  by  handing  a 
leaden  bullet  to  Natty,  and  asking  him  to  carry 
it  down  among  the  spectators,  so  that  some  one 
could  make  a  secret  mark  upon  it  with  a  knife. 
Then  he  took  a  large  pistol  from  a  table,  and 
held  it  while  Natty,  under  instructions,  put  in  a 
lot  of  powder,  and  afterwards  the  ball,  covering 
it  all  the  while,  so  that  the  mark  should  not  be 
detected  by  the  performer.  Every  one  saw  that 
this  was  done  fairly  enough. 

The  magician  next  carried  the  pistol  across  to 
where  Ned  Mullins  stood,  and  gave  it  into  his 
hands,  telling  him  to  watch  it  carefully,  and  keep 


182  NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC 

it  in  a  particular  position.  Ned  said  lie  would 
do  so,  but  as  soon  as  the  conjurer  turned  away, 
Natty  observed  that  the  other  boy  drew  some- 
thing swiftly  from  his  pocket  and  passed  his  hand 
over  the  muzzle  of  the  weapon.  "What  to  say  or 
do  Natty  did  not  know,  and  before  he  could  col- 
lect his  thoughts  the  magician  again  came  for- 
ward,  followed  by  the  child,  who  carried  a  great 
globe  filled  with  goldfish.  As  she  took  her  po- 
sition in  the  middle  of  the  stage,  a  dreadful  chill 
came  over  Natty.  lie  could  not  foresee  what 
was  to  happen,  but  he  was  suddenly  stricken 
with  a  fear  that  some  calamity  was  at  hand. 
Without  exactly  understanding  why  he  did  it, 
he  ran  towards  the  girl,  exclaiming : 

"  Let  me  hold  it,  please.  It  is — it  is  too  heavy 
for  you." 

The  magician  was  surprised. 

"  Thank  you,  my  young  friend,"  he  said ;  "  you 
are  very  polite,  but  it  is  not  so  heavy  as  it  seems, 
and  Adela  is  used  to  it," 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me,"  pleaded  Natty. 

Once  more  the  magician  looked  inquiringly  at 
him,  whereupon  ho  lowered  his  voice  and  whis- 
pered : 

"  Don't — don't  use  the  pistol,  sir ;  Ned  Mullins 
did  something  to  it." 

The  magician  started,  but  quickly  recovered 


NATTY   BARTON  S    MAGIC  183 

himself,  and,  addressing  the  audience,  said  :  "  The 
young  gentleman  is  more  considerate  than  many 
of  his  years  would  be.  There ;  no  one  need  hold 
the  vase ;  we  will  set  it  on  the  table." 

Having  done  this,  he  walked  across  to  Ned 
Mullins  and  relieved  him  of  his  charge.  Natty 
was  in  dire  apprehension  until  the  magician  re- 
turned and  said,  in  a  murmur,  as  he  passed,  "  Be 
not  alarmed,  my  good  lad ;  all  is  safe." 

A  minute  after,  the  pistol  was  pointed  directly 
at  the  vase  and  fired  at  short  range,  without  in- 
juring the  glass,  although  the  fish  began  swim- 
ming about  in  wild  disorder.  Natty's  anxiety 
was  happily  dispelled.  Having  read  descriptions 
of  a  trick  similar  to  this  one,  he  had  been  terri- 
fied by  the  idea  that  the  weapon  was  to  be  turned 
upon  the  little  girl. 

"  Now  Adela  will  carry  the  globe  to  the  gen- 
tleman who  marked  the  bullet,"  said  the  magi- 
cian.    "  I  do  not  wish  to  touch  it  at  all." 

The  child  obe}Ted  the  direction,  and  as  she 
moved  through  the  throng  a  large  goldfish  was 
seen  dragging  a  heavy  object  attached  by  a  cord 
to  its  tail.  This  was  taken  out,  and  pronounced 
to  be  the  very  ball  on  which  the  private  mark 
had  been  cut. 

In  the  midst  of  the  applause  which  followed, 
the  magician  spoke  thus  to  Natty :  "  Will  you 


184  NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC 

come  to  us  at  the  hotel  to-night  after  the  per- 
formance ?     Do,  if  you  can." 

"  Oh  yes,"  answered  Natty,  highly  elated.  "  I 
am  sure  mother  will  let  me." 

Turning  to  Ned  Mullins,  the  magician  added, 
in  a  severe  tone :  "  I  do  not  ask  you  to  come,  and 
you  know  the  reason  why.  It  would  serve  you 
well  if  I  exposed  you  before  the  people.  Leave 
the  stage,  and  come  near  us  no  more !" 


II 

An  hour  later  Natty  was  led  by  the  magician, 
whose  name  was  Ross,  into  a  private  parlor  of 
the  hotel,  where  he  found  Adela  and  her  mother, 
a  lady  about  thirty  years  of  age,  whose  delicate 
appearance  indicated  that  she  was  an  invalid. 

"  My  wife  has  been  ailing  for  many  weeks," 
said  Mr.  Ross  ;  "  but  this  fine  country  air  will  do 
her  great  good.  We  shall  stay  here  till  she  is 
stronger." 

"  We  hope  to,"  the  lady  remarked. 

"Mamma,  we  must"  exclaimed  Adela,  "if  it 
will  help  you." 

"  We  must  if  we  can,"  said  Mr.  Ross.  "  Sit 
down,  Master  Natty,  and  give  me  a  little  infor- 


NATTY    BARTON'S    MAGIC  185 

mation,  if  you  please.  How  many  of  our  exhi- 
bitions do  you  think  your  townspeople  will  en- 
dure without  getting  tired  of  us  ?" 

"  How  could  they  ever  get  tired  ?"  cried  Natty, 
impulsively.     "  I  could  go  a  hundred  times." 

"  You  are  very  complimentary,"  said  the  con- 
jurer ;  "  but  if  the  hall  can  be  filled  seven  or  eight 
times  we  shall  be  satisfied.  Perhaps  my  wife 
will  be  well  enough  to  give  some  assistance  tow- 
ards the  end.  Then  you  shall  have  a  perform- 
ance worth  seeing." 

"Everything  to-night  was  as  beautiful  as  it 
could  be,"  Natty  declared. 

"  Except  the  pistol  trick,"  said  Mr.  Hoss,  laugh- 
ing. "  That  would  have  gone  wrong  but  for 
your  help." 

"Did  I  really  help?"  asked  Natty,  vastly 
pleased.     "I  am  so  glad.    I  was  afraid — " 

"  You  were  afraid  I  was  going  to  shoot  at 
Adela.  Oh  no,  I  never  do  that,  although  there 
would  be  no  danger  at  all  if  nobody  meddled 
with  the  pistol.  Many  conjurers  do  fire  at  peo- 
ple, but  I  dislike  the  practice.  Do  you  know 
what  that  mischievous  fellow  did  ?" 

"  He  would  do  anything  bad,"  Natty  replied. 
"  He  is  the  meanest  boy  in  town." 

"  Of  course  you  understand,"  said  Mr.  Koss, 
"as  everybody  does,  that  my  wonderful  exploits 


186  NATTY   BARTON'S   MAGIC 

are  simply  ingenious  deceptions.  You  need  not 
tell  your  friends,  but  I  have  a  way  of  taking  out 
the  bullet  without  appearing  to.  After  I  had 
done  this,  the  young  scamp  dropped  a  couple 
of  marbles  into  the  pistol-barrel.  It  would  have 
been  very  awkward  if  you  had  not  warned  me. 
The  globe  would  have  been  broken,  the  fishes 
killed,  and  the  entertainment  spoiled.  Our  little 
girl  might  have  been  badly  hurt  by  the  broken 
glass,  for  she  usually  holds  the  vase.  So  you  see 
we  have  good  reason  to  thank  you." 

"  Indeed  we  have,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Ross,  warm- 
ly. "  Come  and  give  me  your  hand,  my  dear 
boy." 

"  And  let  me  have  the  other,"  said  Adela,  going 
quickly  to  him.  "  Papa  did  not  tell  me  this  be- 
fore." 

Natty  had  never  felt  prouder  or  more  con- 
tented. He  tried  to  say  something  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  these  kind  speeches  and  actions,  but 
before  he  could  think  of  the  proper  words  a  loud 
knock  was  heard,  and  Mr.  Ross  left  the  group  to 
open  the  door. 

"  Ah,  the  lessee,"  he  said.     "Come  in,  sir." 

"  JSTot  I,"  answered  Mullins,  roughly.  "  My 
business  is  short.  You  thought  it  mighty  smart 
to  make  me  ridiculous  and  get  me  hissed  a  while 
ago.     I  know  a  trick  as  good  as  any  of  yours,  my 


NATTY   BAETON  S   MAGIC  187 

fine  fellow.  You  can't  have  my  ball  after  this 
week." 

"  Mr.  Mullins,"  said  Eoss,  "  I  had  no  intention 
of  hurting  your  feelings.  Xobody  takes  offence 
at  my  harmless  jests." 

"Then  I'm  nobody,"  retorted  Mullins,  "for  / 
take  offence.  You  have  the  hall  for  two  more 
shows — one  evening  and  one  afternoon.  I  have 
signed  to  that,  but  nothing  beyond.  Take  your 
rubbish  out  before  Saturday  night.  That's  all  I 
have  to  say." 

"  Let  me  tell  you,"  said  Eoss,  mildly,  "  why  I 
wish  to  remain  a  few  weeks.  My  wife  has  had 
a  long  fit  of  sickness,  and  she  needs  rest  and 
pure  air.  Her  illness  has  prevented  many  of  our 
performances  this  season,  and  we  have  made  very 
little  money.  "We  cannot  afford  to  stay  here 
unless  I  gi\e  a  series  of  entertainments.  That  is 
the  absolute  truth.  Yours  is  the  only  hall  in  the 
place,  and  if  you  close  it  against  us,  we  must  go 
away.  I  trust  you  will  consider  the  position  I 
am  in,  and  accept  my  apology  if  I  annoyed  you." 

"  I'm  thinking  of  the  position  /  was  in  when 
you  made  a  fool  of  me  before  the  crowd,"  snarled 
Mullins.  "  Out  you  go  at  the  end  of  the  week, 
and  the  town  will  be  well  rid  of  you." 

The  angry  old  man  stalked  away,  and  the  con- 
jurer rejoined  his  family  with  a  downcast  face. 


188  NATTY   BAKTON  S    MAGIC 

Tears  were  in  little  Adela's  eyes,  and  Natty  him- 
self was  ready  to  cry.  He  felt  that  he  ought  to 
leave,  but  could  not  go  without  expressing  his 
indignation,  and  trying  to  assure  his  new  friends 
that  they  had  his  sympathy  in  their  unexpected 
trouble. 

"  Old  Mullins  is  worse  than  his  boy  Ned,"  he 
cried.  "Everybody  hates  and  despises  him.  I 
wish  I  dared  to  tell  Mr.  Huntington  about  this." 

"  Who  is  Mr.  Huntington  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Ross, 
smiling  at  the  lad's  vehemence. 

"  He  lives  in  the  big  house  opposite  the  old 
church,"  Natty  replied.  "  I  guess  he  is  the  rich- 
est man  in  the  town.  He  is  a  lawyer,  but  he 
doesn't  do  any  law  work  now.  Most  persons 
are  afraid  of  him,  just  as  I  am.  I  don't  know 
why ;  he  isn't  cross  a  bit.  My  mother  is  his 
house-keeper,  and  I  live  there  too  with  her ;  but 
he  never  talks  much  to  me.  Indeed,  he  never 
talks  much  to  anybody.  They  say  he  can  do  what- 
ever he  pleases  in  Fenlowe,  and  I  don't  believe  he 
would  let  old  Mullins  behave  so  if  he  knew." 

"  Never  mind,  my  lad,"  said  Mr.  Ross.  "  Who 
can  tell  what  will  happen?  We  have  still  two 
performances  to  give,  and  they  may  be  more 
profitable  than  we  expect.  Take  these  tickets; 
we  shall  look  for  you  Wednesday  night  and  Sat- 
urday afternoon." 


NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC  189 

"Yes,  do  come,"  cried  Adela.  "I  want  you 
ever  so  much.  Come  up  and  help  us  again  if 
papa  calls  for  an}' body." 

"  I'd  do  anything  to  help  you,"  vowed  Natty 
— "  anything  in  the  world  if  I  only  knew  how." 

"  You  are  a  good  boy,"  chirped  Adela,  "  so  I 
shall  kiss  you  for  good-night." 

Natty  went  home  in  a  very  unsettled  state  of 
mind.  He  wished  something  would  happen  by 
which  he  could  prove  in  a  manly,  grown-up  way 
how  much  he  liked  the  whole  Boss  family,  and 
how  determined  he  was  to  stand  by  them.  A 
beginning  might  be  made,  he  thought,  by  pick- 
ing a  healthy  quarrel  with  Ned  Mullins ;  but 
there  were  reasons  why  he  could  not  immediate- 
ly carry  out  that  plan.  Ned  Mullins  was  incon- 
veniently handy  with  his  lists,  and  capable  of 
playing  such  tricks  of  legerdemain  with  Natty's 
features  as  would  make  it  disagreeable  for  their 
owner  to  occupy  a  front  seat  in  Fenlowe  Hall, 
and  would  prevent  him  from  offering  his  humble 
service  in  any  part  of  the  expected  performances. 
He  concluded  that  he  must  trust  to  luck  for  the 
desired  opportunity,  and  postpone  the  affair  with 
young  Mullins  until  after  the  retirement  of  the 
conjuring  party  from  Fenlowe,  when  a  black  eye 
more  or  less  would  be  of  trifling  consequence. 


190  NATTY    BARTON  S    MAGIC 


III 


Two  evenings  later,  as  Natty  was  crossing  the 
hall  of  the  large  house  in  which  he  lived,  just  be- 
fore starting  for  the  exhibition,  he  saw  Mr.  Hunt- 
ington standing  near  the  front  door,  examining 
the  pockets  of  his  coat,  which  hung  on  a  rack. 

"  Will  you  do  me  a  favor,  Natty  ?"  said  the 
lawyer.  "  I  have  left  a  paper  which  I  need  on 
my  office  table.  Please  run  across  the  street 
and  get  it.  Take  a  lantern  with  you.  The  doc- 
ument is  tied  with  blue  tape  and  has  a  number 
on  it  —  111.  You  can't  forget  that  —  one,  one, 
one.  Give  it  to  your  mother,  and  tell  her  to 
bring  it  to  me.     Here  is  my  key." 

Natty  hurried  over  to  the  little  office,  and  had 
no  difficulty  in  finding  what  he  had  been  sent 
for.  The  number  was  plain  enough — "  111  " — 
and  he  noticed  the  word  "  lease "  on  the  back, 
and  the  names  of  Huntington  and  Mullins.  He 
delivered  the  paper  to  his  mother,  according  to 
instructions. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  this  is  what  Mr.  Mullins  is 
waiting  for,"  she  said.  "He  is  in  the  library 
now." 


NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC  191 

"  Dear  me !"  exclaimed  Natty,  "  I  wish  Mr. 
Huntington  had  nothing  to  do  with  that  old 
sinner." 

He  made  his  way  quickly  to  Fenlowe  Hall, 
and  entered  just  as  the  performance  began. 
Aclela  recognized  him  as  he  went  to  his  seat,  and 
during  the  evening  he  had  the  unspeakable  de- 
light of  being  summoned  once  or  twice  to  the 
platform  to  take  part  in  some  complicated  piece 
of  necromancy.  The  entertainment  was  cord- 
ially applauded  throughout,  and  towards  the  end 
a  great  impression  was  produced  by  an  exhibi- 
tion of  what  was  called  "  second-sight,"  in  which 
Adela,  standing  blindfold  on  the  stage,  accurately 
described  various  objects  which  her  father  bor- 
rowed from  strangers  in  the  audience.  He  would 
take  a  watch,  or  a  ring,  or  any  article  that  was 
offered  him,  ask  the  girl  questions  about  it,  and 
she  would  invariably  answer  with  as  much  exact- 
ness as  if  her  eyes  were  uncovered  and  she  held 
it  in  her  own  hand. 

When  this  was  concluded,  Adela  was  sent 
forward  to  distribute  the  contents  of  a  basket  of 
candies,  while  the  magician  made  a  little  speech. 
He  told  the  people  that  he  had  hoped  to  offer 
them  an  extended  series  of  entertainments,  but 
could  now  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting  them 
only  once  more,  on  Saturday  afternoon,  permis- 


192  NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC 

sion  to  occupy  the  hall  after  that  date  having 
been  positively  denied  him.  He  added  that 
those  who  had  been  present  on  Monday  evening 
would  need  no  explanation  of  Mr.  Mullins's  hos- 
tility. He  (Mr.  Ross)  had  frankly  expressed  his 
regret  at  having  wounded  the  lessee's  delicacy, 
but  that  sensitive  gentleman  had  declined  to  be 
pacified. 

Mullins  was  standing,  as  usual,  at  the  back  of 
the  hall.  He  now  marched  down  the  aisle,  and 
when  he  had  reached  the  centre,  said,  with  a  ma- 
licious grin :  "  You  are  not  wanted  in  this  place 
because  I  believe  you  are  a  humbug  and  a  fraud. 
But  I  wTon't  be  too  hard  on  you  or  anybody. 
You  shall  have  a  chance."  He  threw  open  his 
overcoat,  and  after  fumbling  a  few  seconds,  drew 
a  folded  paper  from  the  inside  pocket.  "  Look 
here,  Mr.  Juggler,"  he  continued,  "  if  you  or  your 
girl  can  tell  the  indorsement  on  this  sheet,  or 
give  the  number  and  the  names,  I'll  make  it  easy 
for  you.  No,  you  sha'n't  come  near  me,  either 
of  you.  The  paper  goes  straight  into  my  pocket 
again.  If  you  can  do  what  I  propose  without 
looking  at  it,  you  may  have  the  hall  as  often  as 
you  like.     If  not,  that's  the  end  of  it." 

Chuckling  at  the  idea  of  inflicting  annoyance 
and  mortification,  he  thrust  the  document  back 
into  his  coat,  which  he  buttoned  tight.     Many 


NATTY   BAKTON  S   MAGIC  193 

persons,  clearly  perceiving  how  absurd  and  un- 
reasonable his  demand  was,  looked  angrily  at 
him,  but  Natty  Barton  was  trembling  with  ex- 
citement. He  had  recognized  the  paper  by  the 
blue  tape  with  which  it  was  bound.  It  was  the 
same  lease  which  he  had  held  in  his  hands  two 
hours  before.  He  beckoned  to  Adela,  who  stood 
quite  near  him,  and  pretended  to  pick  some  can- 
dies from  her  basket.  Everybody  was  giving  at- 
tention to  Mr.  Ross,  and  Natty  could  speak  soft- 
ly without  fear  of  being  overheard. 

"  I  know  all  about  that  paper,"  he  whispered  ; 
"  I  know  everything  that  is  on  the  outside.  Go 
tell  your  father — quick,  quick !  Let  him  blind- 
fold me,  and  I  will  settle  old  Mullins." 

Adela  stared  at  him  in  amazement.  "Are  you 
sure  ?"  she  asked.     "  It  seems  so  strange !" 

"  Of  course  I  am  sure.  Do  you  think  I  would 
make  a  mistake  about  a  thing  like  this?  Don't 
lose  a  minute.     Go  tell  your  father." 

Adela  mounted  hastily  to  the  platform,  from 
which  Mr.  Ross  was  again  addressing  the  spec- 
tators. 

"  The  worthy  lessee,"  he  remarked,  "  is  pleased 
to  call  me  a  humbug.  The  word  is  not  politely 
chosen,  but  I  shall  not  find  fault  with  it.  In  a 
certain  way  it  is  my  business  to  be  a  humbug,  at 
your  service,  ladies  and  gentlemen.     But  he  says 

13 


194  NATTY   BARTON  S    MAGIC 

also  that  I  am  a  fraud.  I  protest  against  the  un- 
truthfulness of  that  epithet.  I  do  not  deceive 
you  by  pretending  to  possess  supernatural  power. 
I  endeavor  to  amuse  you  by  seeming  to  accom- 
plish impossible  things.  As  for  Mr.  Mullins's 
proposal,  he  is  well  aware  that  I  undertake  no 
miracles." 

"That's  your  affair,"  retorted  Mullins.  "I 
give  you  a  chauce ;  you  can  take  it  or  not,  as 
you  like." 

The  conjurer  was  about  to  respond,  when  his 
daughter  approached  him  and  hastily  repeated 
what  Natty  had  told  her.  Mr.  Ross  paused  and 
gazed  searchingly  at  the  boy,  who  sat  immedi- 
ately below,  and  whose  eager  and  determined  ex- 
pression of  face  was  abundantly  calculated  to  in- 
spire confidence.  After  an  instant's  hesitation, 
the  magician  turned  once  more  to  the  audience, 
most  of  whom  were  deeply  indignant  at  Mullins's 
behavior. 

"  I  do  not  think  it  is  true,"  he  said, "  that  the 
lessee  has  any  intention  of  giving  me  a  chance, 
as  he  asserts.  But  we  will  see  what  can  be  done. 
This  is  a  most  unusual  thing  to  attempt,  and  if 
I  fail,  I  shall  throw  myself  on  your  forbearance. 
I  am  sure  you  will  not  think  any  the  worse  of 
me." 

Loud  applause  followed  this  modest  avowal, 


"PRETENDED   TO  PICK  SOME   CANDLES  FROM   HER  BASKET' 


NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC  195 

at  the  end  of  which  Mr.  Eoss  bowed,  and  pro- 
ceeded with  his  speech. 

"If  I  succeed  at  all,  I  mean  to  succeed  in  a 
way  that  will  be  more  surprising  than  anything 
I  have  yet  done.  In  this  matter  I  will  not  rely 
upon  my  little  daughter  for  aid.  I  will  request 
some  young  gentleman  who  is  known  to  you  all 
to  take  her  place." 

The  general  feeling  was  warmly  in  Mr.  Ross's 
favor,  and  nearly  a  score  of  lads  of  various  ages 
started  towards  the  platform,  Xatty  among  them. 
It  surprised  him  that  he  was  not  particularly 
called  upon.  He  was  not  familiar  with  the  cun- 
ning practices  by  which  conjurers  are  accustomed 
to  magnify  the  importance  of  their  exploits. 

"  Thanks  to  you  all,"  said  the  magician,  "  but 
I  need  only  one.  I  think,"  he  added,  with  an 
air  of  doubt,  as  if  his  mind  were  not  already 
made  up — "  I  think — yes,  I  will  choose  the  young- 
est among  you.  That  will  be  best.  How  old  are 
you,  my  young  friend  V  he  inquired,  turning  to  a 
lad  who  was  evidently  Natty 's  senior. 

"  Fourteen,  sir,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Fourteen.  And  you  ?"  demanded  Mr.  Ross, 
looking  at  Natty. 

"A  little  over  twelve,"  said  Natty,  much  re- 
lieved. He  was  beginning  to  comprehend  Mr. 
Ross's  methods. 


196  NATTY    BAKTON  S   MAGIC 

"Very  good,"  said  the  conjurer ;  "  come  hither, 
if  you  please." 

Natty  ascended,  and  was  seated  in  a  chair,  with 
his  back  to  the  spectators.  Adela  bound  his  eyes 
with  a  handkerchief,  and  he  was  left  alone.  In 
the  body  of  the  hall  everybody  was  keenly  in- 
terested, and  some  showed  not  a  little  anxiety  as 
Eoss  stepped  into  the  aisle  and  slowly  advanced 
to  the  spot  where  old  Mullins  had  planted  him- 
self. 

"  Keep  back !"  cried  the  ugly-tempered  lessee. 
"  I  won't  let  you  see  the  paper." 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  see  it,"  said  the  conjurer, 
coolly,  "  and  it  gives  me  no  especial  pleasure  to 
be  near  you.  But  if  I  perform  this  feat  at  all,  I 
must  do  it  according  to  my  own  plan." 

"All  right,"  growled  Mullins ;  "  but  you  dont 
play  any  more  low  games  on  me." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  irritation  at  this,  and 
several  persons  cried  "  Shame !"  but  the  object  of 
their  reproach  laughed  coarsely,  and  told  the 
magician  to  make  haste  and  get  through  with  his 
mummery. 

Eoss  moved  on  until  he  stood  within  five  or 
six  feet  of  his  opponent.  Then,  looking  him  full 
in  the  face,  he  called  out  to  Natty, 

"  Are  you  ready,  my  boy  2" 

"  Quite  ready,  sir." 


NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC  197 

"  Look  into  3rour  mind.  Can  you  recognize 
the  paper  which,  this  individual  has  in  his  coat- 
pocket  ?" 

"  I  can,  sir ;  it  is  tied  with  a  blue  string." 

"Anybody  could  see  that,"  said  Mullins,  scorn- 
fully, "  when  I  held  it  up." 

"  Are  there,"  continued  Ross,  without  heeding 
the  interruption, "  any  names  on  the  back  of  the 
paper  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  there  are  two." 

"Can  you  read  them?" 

"  1  can,  sir ;  the  first  is  Huntington." 

Mullins  gave  a  start  of  astonishment.  He 
could  hardly  believe  his  ears. 

"  And  the  other  ?"  pursued  the  wizard. 

"  The  other  is  Mul-lins,"  replied  ISTatty,  pro- 
nouncing it  in  such  a  prolonged  and  comical 
tone  of  contempt  that  a  burst  of  laughter  echoed 
through  the  hall. 

Mullins's  countenance  was  a  sight  to  behold. 
He  was  an  ignorant  man,  and  the  unexpected 
result  of  the  experiment  gave  him  a  very  queer 
feeling.  But  he  pulled  himself  together,  and 
muttered,  "  There's  the  number  yet  to  be  told." 

"  True,"  said  Ross ;  "  the  number." 

Then  ISTatty  thought  he  would  do  something 
on  his  own  account,  to  make  the  trick  more 
effective.     He  raised  his  right  hand  in  the  air, 


198  NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC 

and  moved  the  forefinger  up  and  down  three 
times. 

"  The  number?1'  he  repeated.  "Wait  one  mo- 
ment, please.  I  see  three  lines.  It  might  be — 
I  don't  say  it  is,  yet — but  it  might  be  three." 

"  It  isn't  three,"  shouted  Mullins.  "  Nothing 
of  the  sort.  You  have  failed.  I  knew  you 
■would." 

"  I  don't  say  it  is  three,"  Natty  ran  on,  hastily. 
"  Just  wait  a  bit."  Again  he  moved  his  finger 
up  and  down  as  before.  "  No,  it  is  not  three, 
yet  there  are  three  lines.  I  see — I  have  it  now ; 
it  is  one  hundred  and  eleven." 

No  confirmation  in  words  was  needed  from 
Mullins.  His  face  was  black  with  rage  as  he 
swung  himself  about  fiercely  and  left  the  hall. 
The  gentlemen  in  the  audience  cheered  till  the 
windows  rattled,  and  the  ladies  shook  their  hand- 
kerchiefs so  that  the  lights  flickered.  Mr.  Ross 
thanked  them  heartily,  and  led  Natty  forward 
to  receive  his  share  of  the  demonstration.  Adela 
was  enthusiastic  in  her  gratitude. 

"  You  dear  boy,"  she  said,  after  the  people  had 
dispersed ;  "  how  beautifully  you  managed  it ! 
Didn't  he,  papa?  It  was  just  as  if  he  had  been 
on  the  stage  all  his  life.  You  puzzled  me,  sir, 
with  your 'three  lines.'  I  did  not  know  what 
was  coming.     How  delighted  mamma  will  be !" 


"  UK    MOVED    niS   FIXGEIi    UP    AND   DOWN   THREE   TIMES  ' 


NATTY   BARTON'S   MAGIC  199 

"It  was  a  capital  performance,"  Mr.  Eoss  as- 
sented. "  You  have  helped  me  immensely,  Mas- 
ter Natty.  "Will  you  go  with  us  to  the  hotel  ? 
iSot  to-night  \  Then  come  to-morrow.  My  wife 
will  be  glad  to  add  her  thanks  to  ours.  This  is 
the  second  good  turn  you  have  done  us,  and  I'm 
sure  I  don't  know  how  to  repay  you." 


IV 

When  Natty  went  to  make  his  call  on  the  fol- 
lowing day  he  found  bad  news  awaiting  him. 
Mullins  had  broken  his  pledge.  He  had  just 
notified  Mr.  Ross  that  in  consequence  of  informa- 
tion privately  received,  he  had  concluded  that 
the  exhibitions  were  dangerous,  and  that  he  was 
bound  in  duty  to  suppress  them.  The  astonished 
conjurer  demanded  an  explanation,  and  was  told 
that  Mullins's  son  had  discovered  the  secret  of 
the  pistol  trick,  which  was  of  a  nature  to  imperil 
human  life.  Such  risks,  he  declared,  should  not 
be  permitted  in  Fenlowe  Hall.  Eoss  retorted  that 
there  never  had  been  anything  wrong  with  the  pis- 
tol until  that  mischievous  boy  had  meddled  with 
it,  and  that  if  any  mishap  had  ensued,  it  would 
have  been  due  solely  to  the  malicious  prank  of 


200  NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC 

Mullins  junior.  But  the  old  man  continued  to 
rail,  and  held  to  his  resolution  to  drive  the  un- 
fortunate family  out  of  town. 

This  was  too  much  for  Natty,  who  straightway 
announced  his  intention  to  acquaint  Mr.  Hunt- 
ington with  the  facts,  and  seek  his  intercession. 
He  did  not  precisely  know  what  that  gentleman 
would  be  able  to  do,  but  had  a  vague  conviction 
that  nobody  could  stand  against  so  much  dig- 
nity, importance,  and  wealth  as  were  united  in 
his  mother's  patron.  He  trotted  home,  and  sum- 
moning all  his  courage,  presented  himself,  not 
without  anxious  misgivings,  at  the  door  of  the 
library,  in  which  the  lawyer  passed  most  of  his 
afternoons. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Mr.  Huntington,  in  response 
to  Natty 's  timid  knock.  He  was  not  a  very  old 
man,  and  there  was  never  any  harshness  in  his 
manner,  but  his  unchanging  gravity  and  stateli- 
ness  of  demeanor  always  impressed  Natty  with  a 
sense  of  awe.  The  lad  did  not  believe  that  any 
person  alive  had  seen  Mr.  Huntington  smile. 
His  face  was  careworn,  and  he  seemed  to  take 
no  satisfaction  in  anything — at  least,  not  in  any- 
thing that  boys  could  understand.  Yet  his  speech 
was  not  severe,  and  his  actions  were  often  kind. 
Only  last  Independence  Day  he  had  enriched  Nat- 
ty with  a  prodigious  box  of  fireworks,  the  posses- 


NATTY    BARTON  S    MAGIC  201 

sion  of  which  would  have  filled  the  youngster's 
heart  with  perfect  rapture  if  he  had  not  been 
compelled  to  promise  that  none  of  the  crackers 
or  bombs  should  be  exploded  near  the  house. 
This  spoiled  a  great  part  of  Natty's  enjoyment, 
whose  filial  wish  had  been  to  enliven  his  affec- 
tionate mother's  nerves  with  a  series  of  first-class 
Fourth  of  July  sensations. 

After  much  hesitation  and  a  great  deal  of 
stammering,  he  succeeded  in  telling  his  story. 
Mr.  Huntington  listened  silently,  and  when  the 
recital  was  ended,  began  to  ask  questions. 

"  You  say  that  Mr.  Mullins  first  refused  be- 
cause he  was  angry  with  the  conjurer,  and  after- 
wards on  the  ground  of  danger  to  the  public  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  But  there  was  no  danger  apart  from  that 
which  young  Mullins  might  have  caused  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  none." 

"  Your  idea  about  the  lease  was  timely  and  in- 
genious ;  but  did  it  not  occur  to  you  that  as  you 
had  seen  the  names  and  the  number  while  you 
were  on  an  errand  for  me,  it  might  be  improper 
to  disclose  them  ?" 

"I  did  think  of  that,  sir  ;  but  I  said  to  myself, 
if  old  Mullins — Mr.  Mullins,  I  mean — was  willing 
to  talk  about  them,  it  wouldn't  be  wrong  for  me 
to  do  so  too." 


202  NATTY   BARTON'S   MAGIC 

"  Yery  well ;  I  do  not  blame  you.  Your  mo- 
tive was  a  good  one.  But  by-and-by,  perhaps 
after  this  Mr.  Ross  has  gone  awa}%  I  advise  you 
to  explain  to  your  friends  how  the  trick  was  per- 
formed, and  why.  You  should  not  give  any  one 
the  chance  to  say  that  you  had  deceived  people, 
or  even  misled  them,  without  a  worthy  purpose." 

"I  understand  that,  sir ;  and  I  told  mother  last 
night  how  it  happened." 

"  That  is  right.  And  as  to  the  hall,  I  will  in- 
quire into  that  matter.  If  you  have  made  no 
mistake,  and  Mr.  Mullins  has  no  other  reason  for 
excluding  Mr.  Ross,  I  think  we  will  set  aside  his 
objections." 

"  Oh,  can  you,  sir  ?"  cried  Natty,  overjoyed  at 
the  success  of  his  pleading. 

"  Why,  I  suppose  so.  You  know  that  Fenlowe 
Hall  belongs  to  me." 

"  No,  sir,  I  did  not  know  it ;  but  I  am  so  glad. 
May  I  tell  Adela— and  her  father  ?" 

"  Not  yet.  Let  me  see  Mullins  first.  Why  do 
you  wish  to  tell  them  ?" 

"It  will  please  them  so  much,  sir.  Mrs.  Ross 
is  sick,  and  they  want  to  stay  here  till  she  gets 
well.  They  thought  they  would  be  driven  away 
by  old  Mullins— by  Mr.  Mullins— but  if  they 
could  know  at  once — " 

"  I  see.     Well,  you  may  say  that  if  Mr.  Ross 


NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC  203 

can  satisfy  the  owner  of  the  hall,  he  may  con- 
tinue to  occupy  it.  But  you  will  not  mention 
my  name,  and  he  must  not  speak  to  the  lessee 
upon  the  subject.  If  these  conditions  are  not 
observed,  I  shall  not  interfere.  Is  that  all, 
Natty?" 

"Thank  you;  yes,  sir.  But —  Yes,  sir;  that 
is  all." 

"You  speak  as  if  there  was  something  more. 
What  is  it  ?" 

Natty  looked  down  at  the  floor,  then  up  at  the 
ceiling,  and  then  out  of  the  window,  greatly  em- 
barrassed. 

"  Go  on,  my  boy.  Have  you  any  reason  to  be 
afraid  of  me  ?" 

"No,  sir;  oh  no!  Perhaps — perhaps  I  am 
afraid  without  any  reason.  Good-afternoon,  sir." 
And  Natty  started  to  run  away. 

""Wait,"  said  Mr.  Huntington.  "I  am  very 
sorry  you  are  afraid  of  me.  I  don't  think  there 
is  any  need.  Oblige  me  by  saying  what  was  on 
your  mind." 

"  It  was  nothing,"  Natty  persisted. 

"Exactly;  then  it  is  all  the  easier  to  tell.  Out 
with  it." 

"Well,  sir;  only  this:  The  little  girl  does  not 
look  very  well,  either,  and  I  thought — if  I  might 
■ — just  for  a  few  minutes — the  river  garden  is  so 


204  NATTY    BARTON'S   MAGIC 

beautiful  now — and  the  weather  is  not  too  cold 
— but  no  matter ;  good-afternoon,  sir." 

"You  need  not  go  yet,"  said  Mr.  Hunting- 
ton ;  and  he  looked  at  Natty  so  curiously  and 
so  long  that  the  lad  began  to  be  afraid  he  had 
been  guilty  of  some  frightful  act  of  presumption. 
"You  know,"  proceeded  the  lawyer,  "that  vis- 
itors rarely  come  here.  I  am  not  in  the  best  of 
health  myself,  and  I  prefer  to  be  alone.  But  I 
think  }Tou  will  not  disturb  me.  Yes,  you  may 
bring  your  young  friend  to-morrow.  Let  her 
come  about  noon,  and  tell  your  mother  that  I 
shall  be  pleased  if  she  will  prepare  some  luncheon 
for  you  both.     That  is  all  now,  I  presume." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  sir,"  Natty  replied,  quite  unable 
to  express  his  delight  in  formal  words.  "  I  hope 
you  will  excuse  me  for  being  afraid.  I  wish  I 
wasn't.  Sometimes  I  can't  help  it.  I  will  try — 
but  I  don't  know." 

"  Do  so,"  said  Mr.  Huntington,  gently  enough, 
but  still  without  a  smile.     "  Good-day." 

Natty  flew  to  his  mother,  and  delivered  his 
news  so  breathlessly  and  in  such  broken  and  dis- 
connected sentences  that  the  excellent  house- 
keeper was  in  great  concern  lest  her  child  had 
strayed  out  of  his  senses. 

"  It  can't  be !"  she  exclaimed,  after  he  had 
contrived  to  unburden  himself.    "  A  strange  girl 


NATTY   BAKT0N  S   MAGIC  205 

to   come    here !     How    did    you   dare    to  pro- 
pose it?" 

"  Is  it  wrong,  mother  ?" 

""Wrong?  No,  not  wrong;  but  I  should  not 
have  dreamt  of  such  a  thing.  There  has  not 
been  a  child  in  the  house  except  you  for  years 
and  years.  I  thought  there  never  would  be.  It 
is  a  great  event,  Natty,  though  you  cannot  under- 
stand my  reason  for  saying  so." 

"Why  is  it  that  nobody  comes  here,  mother, 
and  that  Mr.  Huntington  seems  to  have  no 
friends  ?     Did  he  never  like  to  know  people  ?" 

"  Ah,  Natty,  I  cannot  tell  you  the  whole  now. 
Mr.  Huntington  had  a  heavy  grief  a  long  time 
ago.  It  was  soon  after  you  were  born.  He  had 
an  only  sister  whom  he  loved  devotedly ;  but  she 
married  against  his  wish,  and  they  parted  in  an- 
ger.    He  never  saw  her  again." 

"  Where  is  she  ?"  asked  Natty,  much  impressed 
by  his  mother's  gravity. 

"  She  died  soon  after.  It  was  a  great  blow  to 
her  brother,  though  he  was  right  about  the  mar- 
riage. Helen's  husband  was  not  a  fit  man  for 
her  to  wed.  But  Mr.  Huntington  could  not  for- 
give himself  for  his  severity  to  her,  and  he  has 
suffered  ever  since.  He  tried  to  do  something 
to  repair  a  part  of  his  fault,  but  failed  ;  and  that 
made  him  more  gloomy  than  he  otherwise  would 


206  NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC 

have  been.  You  shall  hear  it  all  some  time, 
Natty,  and  then,  young  as  you  are,  you  will  be 
sorry  for  him.  I  am  glad  he  has  broken  the 
habit  of  closing  the  house  to  everybody.  Per- 
haps brighter  days  will  follow." 


Me.  Boss's  first  two  performances  had  been 
given  on  Monday  and  Wednesday  evenings. 
The  third  was  to  take  place  Saturday  afternoon. 
It  was  on  Friday,  a  little  before  one  o'clock,  that 
Adela  sat  beside  Natty  at  Mrs.  Barton's  table, 
enjoving  the  appetizing  luncheon  which  the 
house -keeper  had  provided  for  the  occasion. 
Adela  had  been  almost  speechlessly  happy  while 
roaming  through  the  fine  grounds  under  Natty's 
guidance.  She  had  lived  mostly  in  cities,  and 
had  never  before  been  brought  into  such  delight- 
ful contact  with  trees  and  flowers.  Her  zealous 
escort  had  taken  her  out,  on  the  river  in  a  big 
boat,  and  had  shown  her  the  barn,  the  orchard, 
the  duck-pond,  the  hen-house,  the  pigsty,  and  all 
the  glories  of  the  place.  She  looked  a  little  tired, 
but  very  beaming  and  contented,  as  she  chatted 
confidentially  about  the  unfamiliar  charms  of 


NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC  207 

the  country.  Once  in  a  while,  however,  a  shade 
passed  over  her  countenance,  and  she  seemed  ill 
at  ease. 

Mrs.  Barton  did  not  fail  to  observe  these  signs 
of  discomposure,  but  she  made  no  remark  or  in- 
quiry. Suddenly,  however,  she  left  the  dining- 
room  and  went  to  the  library,  where  her  employ- 
er was  seated,  as  usual. 

"  I  beg  pardon  for  disturbing  you,  sir,"  she 
began,  "but  I  feel  that  you  ought  to  know  some- 
thing this  little  girl  has  said.  She  told  Natty 
she  didn't  think  it  would  be  right  to  go  away 
without  thanking  you  for  letting  her  come  here. 
She  is  a  very  intelligent  child.  Are  you  willing 
to  see  her?" 

"  'No,  Mrs.  Barton,"  Mr.  Huntington  answered, 
quietly.  "  I  am  glad  she  has  had  some  diversion, 
but  her  thanks  are  due  to  you  and  Natty." 

"  She  does  not  think  so,  sir ;  and  I  believe  it 
will  trouble  her  very  much  if  she  cannot  speak 
to  you.  She  says  her  mother  would  reprove  her 
if  she  neglected  it.  And,  to  tell  you  the  truth, 
she  is  a  little  beauty.  I  do  want  to  bring  her  to 
you,  just  for  a  moment." 

"  You  are  asking  a  very  uncommon  thing," 
said  Mr.  Huntington.  "  If  she  supposes  she 
must  make  an  acknowledgment,  she  can  surely 
do  so  through  you." 


208  NATTY   BARTON  S    MAGIC 

"If  you  could  see  her,  sir,  you  would  not  say 
that.  It  is  uncommon,  I  know,  but  I  do  not 
often  try  to  put  you  out  of  your  way.  Let  it  be 
a  favor  to  me." 

"  You  shall  have  your  wish,  Mrs.  Barton,"  the 
lawyer  said,  slowly,  and  still  somewhat  reluc- 
tantly. "  But  the  child  need  not  come  here.  If 
she  is  at  luncheon  I  will  look  in  casually.  That 
will  be  less  ceremonious  and  more  agreeable  to 
me." 

"  As  you  please,  sir ;  and  I  am  obliged  to  you 
for  consenting." 

A  few  minutes  later  Mr.  Huntington  walked 
into  the  dining-room,  much  to  the  surprise  of 
Natty,  who  knew  his  habits  of  seclusion.  Adela, 
divining  who  it  was,  laid  down  her  knife  and 
fork  and  rose  from  her  seat.  Her  face  flushed 
brightly  as  she  waited  for  the  master  of  the 
house  to  speak,  but  he  was  silent.  He  glanced 
hastily  and  strangely  at  Mrs.  Barton,  and  then 
fixed  his  gaze  upon  the  young  visitor  with 
an  intentness  that  deepened  the  color  in  her 
cheeks. 

"What  is  your  name,  my  little  friend?"  he 
finally  inquired,  in  so  peculiar  a  tone  that  Natty 
hardly  recognized  his  voice. 

"  Adela  Ross,  sir,"  the  child  replied. 

"  You  are  the  daughter  of  the  lady  and  gen- 


NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC  209 

tleraan  who  have  come  to  perforin  at  Fenlowe 
Hall?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  mamma  has  not  appeared  yet. 
She  is  not  strong  enough.  Papa  and  I  do  ev- 
erything." 

The  girl's  lip  quivered  as  she  answered,  and 
her  eyes  were  cast  down,  as  if  to  hide  a  painful 
emotion. 

"Is  she  so  ill  that  it  grieves  you  to  speak  of 
her?"  asked  Mr.  Huntington. 

"  Oil  no,  sir ;  I  hope  she  is  not  very  ill.  It  is 
not  that.     Please  excuse  me." 

"  Sit  down,  my  dear.  What  is  it  that  disturbs 
you  ?  I  thought  Natty  was  to  make  everything 
pleasant  during  your  call.  Do  you  know  what 
the  matter  is,  Natty  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  do,"  said  the  boy,  stoutly,  although 
Adela  looked  at  him  with  beseeching  eyes. 

"  Oh,  Natty  I"  she  murmured,  ruefully. 

'*  But  I  mustn't  tell  if  she  is  not  willing,"  the 
boy  added,  promptly. 

"  I  am  sure  there  is  nothing,"  said  Mr.  Hunt- 
ington, "that  she  should  be  unwilling  to  let  us 
hear.  Perhaps  we  can  help  her,  Mrs.  Barton 
and  I." 

The  house-keeper's  kind  heart  was  beating  fast. 
She  had  not  seen  her  employer  in  so  gracious  a 
mood  for  many  a  year. 

14 


210  •  NATTY   BARTON  S    MAGIC 

"  I  think  we  may  be  told,"  the  lawyer  contin- 
ued ;  and  as  Aclela  made  no  further  attempt  to 
remonstrate,  Natty  hastened  to  explain. 

"  She  was  saying,  out  in  the  river  garden,  that 
she  felt  as  if  it  was  wicked  to  have  such  a  beau- 
tiful holiday  all  to  herself,  when  her  mother 
could  not  enjoy  it  too." 

"  Oh,  Natty  !"  repeated  Adela,  dismayed  and 
confused. 

"  There  is  no  harm  in  that,"  said  Mr.  Hunt- 
ington. "  Do  you  understand  what  she  means, 
Natty  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  not  exactly.   Yes,  sir ;  I  do — a  little." 

"  Is  your  mother  fond  of  gardens  V  the  lawyer 
inquired  of  Adela. 

"  I  don't  think  she  has  been  in  many,  sir — not 
many  like  yours.  We  go  about  a  good  deal,  but 
mostly  in  large  cities.  We  never  were  in  such  a 
pretty  town  as  this  before.  And,  oh,  the  lovely 
river,  and  the  flowers  !" 

"  And  the  pigsty,"  suggested  Natty. 

"  Y — es,"  assented  Adela,  cautiously.  "  It  is 
all  so— interesting." 

"  Fortunately  we  can  do  something  to  relieve 
your  anxiety,"  said  Mr.  Huntington.  "Mrs. 
Barton,  you  will  oblige  me  by  inviting  this  little 
lady's  mother  and  father  to  pass  next  Sunday 
with  you.     Natty,  my  lad,  you  shall  invite  the 


NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC  211 

daughter.  You  can  ramble  around  all  day  long, 
as  you  like,  and  take  tea  in  the  arbor  on  the 
river-bank  if  the  air  is  mild  enough.  Tell  your 
parents,  my  child,  that  they  must  pardon  me  if 
I  do  not  join  the  party.  I  am  not  used  to  com- 
pany, and  you  will  amuse  yourselves  much  bet- 
ter without  me.  And  look  here,  Natty ;  before 
your  friend  goes  to-day,  you  might  gather  a  bas- 
ket of  flowers  for  her  to  carry  to  Mrs.  Koss." 

The  unlooked-for  turn  of  events  made  Mrs. 
Barton  almost  dizzy ;  and  as  for  Natty,  his  eyes 
and  mouth  were  widening  to  an  alarming  extent. 
Adela  had  no  means  of  knowing  how  contrary 
to  his  ordinary  conduct  the  lawyer's  present  be- 
havior was,  but  she  was  deeply  touched,  and 
leaving  the  table,  she  ran  to  him  and  grasped 
one  of  his  hands  in  both  of  her  own.  Tears 
were  upon  her  cheeks  as  she  cried  : 

"  How  good  you  are !  Nobody  else  has  been 
so  good.  Papa  and  mamma  are  sure,  though 
Natty  would  not  tell,  that  it  was  you  who  let  us 
stay  and  perform  in  Fenlowe,  and  when  they 
hear  that  they  may  come  to  the  garden  and  en- 
joy themselves  on  Sunday,  I  don't  know  what 
they  will  say.  I  wish  I  could  thank  you  prop- 
erly, Mr.  Huntington,  but  I  can't.  Papa  will 
do  that,  and  mamma,  too,  for  me  and  for  them- 
selves." 


212  NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC 

The  stern  lawyer  lifted  the  child  in  his  arms, 
and  held  her  close  to  him  while  he  peered  into 
her  large  brown  eyes.  Then,  wonder  of  wonders, 
he  bent  his  head  and  kissed  her  on  the  forehead, 
after  which  he  set  her  down  hurriedly,  and  ab- 
ruptly left  the  room. 

"Ah,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Barton,  "it  is  nat- 
ural that  he  should  be  moved.  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  much  you  look  like  some  one  he 
knew  and  cared  for  very  much  when  he  was 
younger." 

"  Do  I,  really,  Mrs.  Barton  ?" 

"  Indeed  you  do." 

Adela  would  have  asked  more,  but  footsteps 
were  heard,  and  Mr.  Huntington  came  again  be- 
fore them. 

"You  take  part  in  your  father's  performances," 
he  said ;  "  do  you  not,  my  child  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  sir ;  I  do  a  great  many  things." 

"  Tell  }Tour  father  that  I  shall  give  myself  the 
pleasure  of  looking  in  to-morrow.  I  wish  to  see 
for  myself  what  his  exhibition  is." 

"  He  will  be  very  glad.  So  will  you,  Mr. 
Huntington.  It  will  make  you  laugh.  I  think 
it  will  make  you  laugh.  It  ought  to.  Every- 
body laughs — except  that  rude  Mr.  Mullins." 

"  I  may  not  laugh,  but  I  don't  doubt  I  shall  be 
pleased.     And  if  your  father  desires  to  use  me 


NATTY    BARTON'S   MAGIC  213 

for  the  trick  which  disagreed  with  Mullins,  he  is 
welcome  to  do  so." 

"  Oh  no,  sir ;  he  would  not  think  of  that." 

"  Why  not  ?  It  will  show  that  a  sensible  man 
is  not  offended  by  it,  whatever  Mullins  may  say." 

"  You  don't  mean  the  rabbit,  sir  ?" 

"  If  the  rabbit  does  not  object,  certainly." 

"  And  the  goose  ?" 

"  The  goose,  by  all  means." 

"  I  will  tell  papa  what  you  say,"  said  Adela, 
dubiously;  "but  I  don't  believe  he  would  ever 
do  it — not  to  you.  It  wouldn't  look  at  all  natu- 
ral," she  added,  with  an  air  of  grave  reflection, 
"  to  see  a  goose  come  out  of  your  neck." 

"Tell  him,  and  let  him  do  as  he  chooses," 
were  Mr.  Huntington's  last  words  as  he  again 
left  them. 

"  He's  sorry  about  something,"  said  Adela, 
after  he  had  gone.  "  He  did  not  smile  once,  not 
even  when  we  talked  about  the  goose.  But  he 
will  to-morrow  afternoon.  Nobody  can  help 
being  merr}^  when  papa  does  his  best,  and  he 
will  do  his  very  test  best  for  Mr.  Huntington. 
How  happy  we  shall  be !" 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  am  awake  or  asleep !" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Barton.  "  When  he  came  and  told 
us  he  was  going  to  see  the  magic,  I  had  to  put 
my  hand  over  my  mouth  to  keep  from  screaming 


214  NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC 

out  loud.  My  little  girl,  you  can't  realize  what 
you  have  done.  You  will  not  stay  in  Fenlowe 
long,  and  when  you  go  I  suppose  we  shall  never 
see  you  again,  but  I  believe  your  coming  to-day 
has  brought  a  blessing  on  this  sad  house,  and  if 
it  lasts  I  will  be  thankful  to  you,  my  dear,  all  the 
days  of  my  life." 


VI 

On  Saturday  afternoon  Fenlowe  Hall  was 
filled  with  the  largest  audience  ever  gathered 
within  its  walls.  The  report  that  Mr.  Hunting- 
ton was  to  be  present  had  flown  about,  and  the 
community  were  one  and  all  on  the  alert  to  wit- 
ness so  remarkable  an  event  as  the  reappearance 
of  their  most  distinguished  townsman  in  a  pub- 
lic place  of  amusement.  Many  who  could  not 
gain  admittance  to  the  building  stood  about  the 
doorway,  determined  to  behold  at  least  the  en- 
trance of  the  recluse,  if,  indeed,  the  extraordi- 
nary rumor  should  be  verified.  On  this  point 
there  was  still  considerable  doubt,  and  one  indi- 
vidual did  not  hesitate  to  declare  his  opinion 
that  the  story  Avas  an  utter  fabrication,  unwor- 
thy of  a  moment's  credence.  This  was  Mr.  Mul- 
lins,  the  surly  lessee,  who  amused  himself  in  the 


NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC  215 

vestibule  by  scoffing  at  the  credulity  of  the  pop- 
ulace. 

"  Lawyer  Huntington  patronize  this  miserable 
show  !"  he  cried.  "  Not  he.  Do  you  think  that 
after  shutting  himself  up  for  ten  whole  years  he 
would  choose  an  occasion  like  this  to  come  out 
of  his  shell  ?  Get  along  with  you  !  It's  nothing 
but  a  trick  of  this  juggling  fellow  to  make  folks 
curious  and  draw  a  big  house.-' 

The  words  had  scarcely  passed  his  lips  when 
the  tall  form  of  Mr.  Huntington  was  seen  mov- 
ing slowly  down  the  street  in  the  direction  of 
the  hall.  Every  tongue  was  hushed,  and  a  si- 
lence fell  on  the  multitude,  although,  but  for  the 
universal  deference  to  the  lawyer's  feelings,  and 
the  knowledge  that  a  noisy  demonstration  would 
be  distasteful  to  him,  the  majority  would  have 
been  disposed  to  cheer.  He  gravely  acknowl- 
edged the  salutations  offered  him  from  all  sides, 
and  carefully  made  his  way  through  the  throng 
which  nearly  blocked  the  porch.  As  he  crossed 
the  threshold,  Mr.  Mullins,  greatly  disconcerted, 
but  preserving  a  good  share  of  his  natural  au- 
dacity, drew  up  and  addressed  him  thus : 

"  Glad  to  see  you  out  and  among  us,  sir ;  un- 
common glad.  But  sorry  you've  been  misled 
into  coming  to  this  stupid  exhibition.  There's 
nothing  in  it,  I  assure  you,  sir." 


216  NATTY    BAETON's   MAGIC 

"  Let  me  pass,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Mullins,"  an- 
swered Mr.  Huntington.  "  You  are  obstructing 
the  passage." 

Mullins  stood  aside,  and  watched  the  lawyer 
with  a  slight  sense  of  uneasiness  as  he  walked 
down  the  aisle  and  took  the  seat  reserved  for 
him.  The  gruff  lessee  did  not  exactly  like  it,  and 
resolved  to  keep  his  eye  on  the  unexpected  visitor. 

The  entertainment  began  in  due  course,  but  it 
was  a  question  for  a  time  whether  the  perform- 
ances on  the  stage  or  the  stately  figure  in  the 
centre  of  the  audience  claimed  the  greater  de- 
gree of  attention  from  those  present.  Little 
Adela's  gentle  charm  soon  asserted  itself,  how- 
ever, and  when  she  stepped  into  the  body  of  the 
hall,  followed  by  her  father,  and  tripped  lightly 
towards  Mr.  Huntington,  the  excitement  rose  to 
the  highest  possible  pitch. 

"  Your  own  request,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Ross,  in  an 
undertone,  bending  towards  the  lawyer  ;  "  but  I 
will  stop  whenever  you  bid  me." 

"  Go  on,"  replied  Mr.  Huntington.  "  I  am  en- 
tirely at  your  service." 

Whereupon  the  magician  passed  a  hand  over 
Mr.  Huntington's  head,  and  drew,  or  appeared 
to  draw,  from  his  neck  a  basket  of  assorted 
fruits,  which  Adela  took  and  offered  to  the  ladies 
who  sat  near. 


NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC  217 

"  Here !  here !  that  won't  do !"  was  heard  in 
rough  tones  from  the  back  of  the  hall,  while 
Mullins's  burly  shape  was  seen  pushing  forward. 
"  I  won't  allow  it.  "What  do  you  mean  by  play- 
ing your  impudent  pranks  upon  Lawyer  Hunt- 
ington ?" 

"  Do  not  interfere,  M ullins,"  ordered  Mr.  Hunt- 
ington, sharply.  "  I  am  glad  to  testify  that  there 
is  nothing  objectionable  in  this  kind  of  amuse- 
ment.    Continue,  Mr.  Conjurer." 

"  But,  sir — "  urged  Mullins. 

"  Be  quiet,  and  make  no  further  disturbance," 
said  Mr.  Huntington,  so  emphatically  that  the 
mischief-maker  was  subdued  for  the  moment, 
and  turned,  discomfited,  to  resume  his  post  of 
observation  at  the  rear.  As  he  did  so,  the  con- 
jurer caught  at  his  coat-pocket,  and  extracted 
therefrom  a  little  live  pig,  kicking  its  legs,  twist- 
ing its  corkscrew  of  a  tail,  and  squealing  vigor- 
ously as  it  was  held  high  in  the  air.  The  spec- 
tators were  wild  with  delight,  while  Mullins,  in 
a  fury,  rushed  out  of  sight.  Of  all  the  witnesses, 
Mr.  Huntington  was  the  only  one  that  was  not 
convulsed  with  laughter. 

The  wizard  fell  to  his  work  again,  and  bejmn 
taking  out  flowers  and  toys  in  profusion  from 
the  favored  visitor's  sleeves  and  pockets,  produc- 
ing  finally   a  large   bundle   of   cornucopia?,  or 


218  NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC 

"horns  of  plenty,"  overflowing  with  candies  and 
tiny  cakes. 

"A  fitting  emblem,  sir — generosity  and  boun- 
ty," said  Mr.  Boss,  proceeding  to  distribute  the 
confections. 

Mr.  Huntington  beckoned  to  Adela,  who  was 
close  at  hand. 

"  I  miss  something,"  he  said,  so  that  only  she 
could  hear.    "  This  is  not  what  you  promised  me." 

"  Oh,  sir,"  she  answered,  in  the  same  low  voice, 
"  not  the  goose.  I  couldn't  let  papa  do  that. 
No,  nor  even  the  rabbit.     But — " 

She  went  nearer  to  him,  and  looked  playfully 
in  his  face.  Still  he  did  not  smile,  but  he  re- 
turned her  gaze  in  a  manner  that  made  those 
who  watched  him  wonder  at  its  earnestness. 
Suddenly  Adela  raised  her  hands  and  pulled 
apart  the  upper  folds  of  his  w7aistcoat. 

"Why,  Mr.  Huntington,  what  can  this  be?" 
she  exclaimed,  drawing  forth  two  white  doves, 
which,  as  she  threw  them  into  the  air,  fluttered 
towards  Mr.  Ross,  and  presently  perched  upon 
his  arm.  This  was  the  first  display  of  sleight-of- 
hand  that  the  child  had  attempted  without  aid, 
and  the  applause  was  unbounded. 

"  Tell  your  father,"  the  lawyer  whispered, 
when  Adela  was  about  returning  to  the  stage, 
"  to  show  us  the  pistol  trick." 


ADELA  S   DOVE    TRICK 


NATTY   BARTON  S    MAGIC  219 

She  obeyed,  and  after  calling  two  lads  to  as- 
sist him — one  of  whom,  you  may  be  sure,  was 
Natty — the  conjurer  produced  his  weapon  and 
the  vase  of  goldfish.  Their  appearance  was  the 
signal  for  another  outburst  on  the  part  of  Mullins. 

"  This  can't  go  on !"  roared  the  obstreperous 
lessee.  "  I  told  you  I  wouldn't  have  the  thing 
repeated.     Stop  it !" 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Ross,  ad^ 
vancing  to  the  edge  of  the  platform,  "  }rou  have 
heard  the  lessee's  prohibition ;  but  a  person  of 
higher  authority  in  Fenlowe  Hall  than  the  les- 
see has  called  for  this  particular  performance. 
I  shall  therefore  not  desist." 

"  I  forbid  it !  I'll  prosecute  you !"  shouted 
Mullins. 

The  necromancer  cast  a  glance  of  inquiry  at 
his  supporter,  who  nodded  affirmatively. 

"But  it  is  dangerous,  Mr.  Huntington,"  pro- 
tested Mullins,  as  soon  as  he  noticed  the  signal. 
"  You  will  risk  our  lives  if  you  let  him  keep  on." 

"That  is  sheer  nonsense,"  said  the  lawyer, 
turning  upon  Mullins,  "although  I  believe  the 
same  accusation  has  been  freely  made  elsewhere, 
to  Mr.  Ross's  injury.  The  pistol  has  always 
been  a  perfectly  harmless  toy,  except  once,  when 
a  reckless  boy  tampered  with  it.  That  was  a 
piece  of  wilful  and  malicious  mischief,  and  it 


220  NATTY    BARTON  S    MAGIC 

would  be  unlucky  for  the  perpetrator  if  his  mis- 
deed were  forced  too  strongly  upon  my  atten- 
tion. Finish  your  performance,  Mr.  Conjurer; 
I  think  you  will  not  be  interrupted  again." 

It  was  now  evident  that  Mr.  Huntington  had 
taken  the  magician  under  his  protection,  and 
though  no  one  could  guess  at  his  motive,  a  pro- 
longed clapping  of  hands  gave  assurance  that 
his  intercession  was  warmly  approved  and  in- 
dorsed. Mullins  fled  from  the  room,  followed 
b}^  jeers  and  cries  of  mockery.  The  entertain- 
ment proceeded  agreeably ;  and  when,  just  be- 
fore the  end,  the  lawyer  rose  to  his  feet  and 
asked  to  be  heard  in  explanation  of  his  presence 
on  this  particular  afternoon,  every  eye  was  bent 
on  him,  and  the  silence  was  profound  as  he  ut- 
tered these  words : 

"My  friends  and  fellow -townsfolk,  I  have 
departed  from  my  customary  course  of  life,  and 
come  hither  to-day  to  overrule  and  if  possible  to 
repair  an  act  of  injustice.  The  gentleman  to 
whom  we  are  indebted  for  our  present  diversion 
came  to  Fenlowe  with  the  intention  of  remaining 
several  weeks.  He  had  strong  reasons,  with  which 
I  heartily  sympathize,  for  desiring  to  give  in  this 
hall  a  series  of  exhibitions  ;  but  the  lessee,  choos- 
ing to  be  affronted  at  a  trifling  pleasantry,  took 
it  upon  himself  to  deny  the  stranger  that  privi- 


NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC  221 

lege,  and  to  deprive  you  all  of  several  excellent 
entertainments.  These  facts  came  to  my  knowl- 
edge through  a  youthful  member  of  our  commu- 
nity, who  could  not  bear  to  see  such  a  wrong 
done  without  striving  hard  to  avert  it.  I  am 
obliged  to  him  for  reminding  me  of  my  duty  in 
this  instance,  and  I  shall  take  care  hereafter  that 
personal  spite  shall  not  be  a  reason  for  refusing 
the  accommodations  of  Fenlowe  Hall  to  any  ap- 
plicant. I  have  endeavored  to  make  it  apparent 
that  I  approve  Mr.  Ross's  performances,  and  that 
the  charge  spread  about  to  his  discredit — of  care- 
lessness in  using  weapons  —  is  without  founda- 
tion. Unless  Mr.  Mullins  is  prepared  to  give  up 
the  lease  of  this  building,  he  will  reverse  his  de- 
cision and  place  no  obstacles  in  this  gentleman's 
course.  I  wish  our  visitor  every  success,  and 
you,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  a  cordial  good-after- 
noon." 

Having  spoken  thus,  Mr.  Huntington  wrent  rap- 
idly out,  while  the  listeners  unitedly  signified 
their  satisfaction  with  his  remarks,  and  their  de- 
termination to  uphold  the  object  of  them.  Mr. 
Ross  was  deeply  grateful,  and  his  voice  was  un- 
steady when  he  next  attempted  to  use  it.  He 
said,  frankly,  that  he  was  not  accustomed  to  such 
kindness,  and  felt  unable  to  express  his  obliga- 
tion becomingly ;  but  he  hoped  to  find  some 


222  NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC 

effective  means  of  proving  before  he  left  Fen- 
lowe  that  he  was  not  wholly  unworthy  of  the 
interest  and  good-will  bestowed  upon  him  and 
his  family. 

The  opportunity  was  nearer  than  he  thought. 


VII 

"  She  is  a  dear  little  creature,"  said  Mrs.  Bar- 
ton, while  conversing  alone  with  Mr.  Hunting- 
ton on  the  following  morning.  "  I  wish  some 
good  person  would  adopt  her  and  take  her  out 
of  those  unsettled,  rambling  ways." 

" I  understand  you,"  the  lawyer  replied;  "but 
I  should  be  unequal  to  so  hard  a  trial.  Her  face 
would  be  a  constant  reproach  to  me." 

"  Don't  say  that,  sir.  I  am  sure  you  did  ev- 
erything that  man  could  do  to  find  Miss  Helen 
— Mrs.  Greaves,  I  mean." 

"  When  it  was  too  late,"  said  Mr.  Huntington, 
mournfully.  "  No  ;  the  child  is  closely  attached 
to  her  parents,  and  they  would  probably  refuse 
to  part  with  her  for  any  consideration.  They 
could  not  be  expected  to  submit  to  such  a  sacri- 
fice. But  I  hope  to  see  her  many  times  while 
she  remains  here.     Make  her  visit  as  pleasant  as 


NATTY  BARTON'S   MAGIC  223 

you  can,  Mrs.  Barton,  so  that  she  will  wish  to 
come  again." 

He  had  quite  forgotten  his  statement  to  Aclela, 
two  clays  before,  that  he  could  not  personally 
receive  any  of  the  guests  on  Sunday  ;  but  Mrs. 
Barton  remembered  it,  and  drew  hopeful  conclu- 
sions from  his  change  of  mind. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ross,  with  Adela,  were  ushered 
by  Natty,  about  eleven  o'clock,  into  the  stately 
Huntington  mansion.  Their  entrance  produced 
an  effect  upon  those  of  the  neighbors  who  wit- 
nessed it  not  less  remarkable  than  that  created 
by  the  lawyer's  appearance  in  Fenlowe  Hall. 
For  more  than  ten  years  he  had  admitted  no  vis- 
itors to  his  residence,  except  for  necessary  busi- 
ness purposes,  and  nobody  comprehended  why 
the  first  relaxation  of  the  rule  should  be  for  the 
benefit  of  an  unknown  family  whose  vocation 
assuredly  could  not  serve  as  a  powerful  recom- 
mendation to  favor.  But  Mrs.  Barton  was  in  no 
uncertainty  upon  the  subject.  She  did  her  best 
to  make  the  strangers  contented  and  comfortable, 
and  her  success  was  such  that  Mrs.  Ross's  usually 
pale  face  glowed  with  animation,  while  every  trace 
of  uneasiness  vanished  from  her  husband's  feat- 
ures. Adela,  for  her  part,  danced  about  and  sang 
so  cheerfully  as  to  cause  all  the  party  to  forget 
that  there  was  such  a  thing;  as  care  in  the  world. 


224  NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC 

Early  in  the  afternoon,  as  they  were  sitting  in 
the  arbor  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  they  saw  Mr. 
Huntington  approaching  through  the  orchard. 
Adela  ran  to  meet  him. 

"  I  knew  you  would  come,"  she  cried,  taking 
his  hand  to  lead  him  to  the  others.  "  Natty  was 
afraid  you  could  not,  but  I  told  him  you  were 
too  good  to  stay  away  when  mamma  wanted  so 
much  to  thank  you.  Mamma  would  have  been 
distressed  if  she  had  not  seen  yon." 

"And  you,  my  child?"  asked  Mr.  Hunting- 
ton. 

"  Oh,  I  am  a  little  girl,  and  can  go  anywhere 
and  do  anything.  I  should  have  tried  to  find 
you.  I  hope  you  would  not  have  been  angry ; 
would  you?" 

"No,  my  dear;  but  that  is  because  you  are 
good,  not  I." 

"  Ah  no ;  I  am  not  too  little  to  know  who  is 
good.  Anybody  that  is  kind  to  mamma  is  good, 
and  you  have  been  the  kindest  of  all.  It  made 
me — you  mustn't  say  anything  about  it,  but  it 
made  me  cry,  yesterday,  when  papa  told  her 
what  you  had  done  to  help  us  to  stay  here,  and 
get  her  well." 

"  Why,  how  can  a  person  be  good  who  makes 
you  cry  ?" 

"It  doesn't  hurt  to  cry  like  that,"  she  ex- 


NATTY   BARTON  S   MAGIC  225 

plained,  laughing  joyously.  "  Now  here  are  my 
papa  and  mamma,  ever  so  glad  to  see  you." 

In  a  few  simple  and  sincere  words  the  invalid 
conveyed  her  acknowledgment  of  the  important 
service  which  the  lawyer  had  rendered.  Mr. 
Huntington  was  struck  by  the  refinement  and 
delicacy  of  her  manner.  He  knew  very  little 
about  the  class  to  which  wizards  and  conjurers 
belong,  but  his  first  thought  was  that  if  Adela's 
destiny  bound  her  to  a  career  of  publicity,  it  was 
fortunate  that  she  was  under  the  guidance  of  so 
well-bred  a  gentlewoman. 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Ross, 
whose  manner  was  less  reserved  than  his  wife's, 
"  we  haven't  been  able  to  account  for  the  consid- 
eration you  have  shown  us.  It  is  not  a  common 
experience  with  us,  and,  indeed,  people  in  our 
line  of  occupation  do  not  look  for  it;  but  it  is 
none  the  less  gratifying  for  that,  you  can  well 
believe." 

"If  you  are  indebted  to  anybody,"  said  Mr. 
Huntington,  seating  himself  in  the  arbor,  "it  is 
to  Master  Natty,  in  the  first  place.  He  told  me 
about  Mullins's  freak  of  ill-humor,  and  as  I  am 
the  owner  of  the  hall,  it  seemed  proper  that 
I  should  interfere.  Yet  I  am  not  sure  that  I. 
should  have  gone  to  the  entertainment  if  I  had 
not  seen  your  daughter  while  she  was  here  as 


226  NATTY    BARTON  S   MAGIC 

Natty's  guest.  It  needs  a  strong  persuasion  to 
entice  an  old  hermit  out  of  his  solitude,  but  I 
could  not  resist  her." 

"  She  has  been  a  blessing  to  us,"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Ross,  "  ever  since  we — " 

"  All  her  life,"  interposed  Mrs.  Ross,  breaking 
in  upon  her  husband's  sentence. 

"I  do  not  doubt  it,"  said  Mr.  Huntington. 
"  I  have  known  one  who  was  not  unlike  her,  and 
who  at  her  age  was  the  joy  and  brightness  of  all 
around  her." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Ross ;  "  may 
I  ask  if  she  was  your  child  V 

"  My  child  ?     No ;  it  was  my  sister  Helen." 

"  Helen !"  exclaimed  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ross  to- 
gether, with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"  That  was  her  name,"  said  the  lawyer,  quietly. 

"Would  you  kindly  tell  me  her  full  name?" 
inquired  Mr.  Ross.  "  Believe  me,  I  do  not  ask 
in  idle  curiosity." 

"  Helen  Huntington,"  was  the  reply.  "  Or,  if 
you  mean  her  name  after  marriage,  it  was  Hel- 
en Greaves." 

Mrs.  Ross  drew  a  quick  breath,  and  folding 
her  arms  tightly  about  Adela,  pressed  the  child 
to  her  breast.  Mr.  Ross,  after  a  moment's  pause, 
spoke  hurriedly  to  his  Avife,  with  an  effort  at 
composure  which  was  far  from  successful. 


NATTY   BARTON'S   MAGIC  227 

"  Do  not  hold  her,  my  love,"  he  said ;  "  she 
must  leave  us  for  a  little  while."  Turning  to 
Adela,  he  added :  "  Go  with  Natty,  dear ;  he  will 
entertain  you  somewhere  else.  I  have  something 
to  tell  Mr.  Huntington  which  you  need  not  hear 
— not  yet— not  yet." 

Adela's  eyes  grew  big  and  round  with  wonder, 
but  she  kissed  Mrs.  Ross,  and  obeyed  in  silence, 
taking  Natty 's  hand,  and  seeming  to  direct  rather 
than  follow  him. 

"  It  is  a  very  serious  matter,"  continued  the 
magician.  "  I  have  no  right — and  no  desire — to 
make  suggestions  in  this  place,  but  perhaps  we 
ought  to  speak  with  Mr.  Huntington  entirely 
alone." 

"  Mrs.  Barton  has  been  in  my  family  twenty 
years,"  said  the  lawyer,  greatly  astonished.  "  I 
can  think  of  nothing  that  should  be  withheld 
from  her." 

"  Then,  sir,  though  it  is  a  hard  thing  for  me 
to  say,  my  duty  requires  me  to  tell  you  that 
Adela  is  not  our  daughter — " 

"  Not  yours  ?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Huntington. 

"  And  that  her  true  name  is  Helen  Greaves." 

"  Are  you  trifling  with  me  ?"  cried  the  lawyer, 
springing  to  his  feet. 

"  Heaven  forbid,  sir !  I  would  give  everything 
I  own  in  the  world  to  keep  the  secret  forever,  if 


228  NATTY   BAKT0N  S   MAGIC 

I  could  do  so  justly ;  but  I  am  bound  in  honor 
to  let  you  hear  the  truth.  Ten  years  ago,  when 
we  were  travelling  in  South  Carolina,  we  passed 
through  a  small  town  called  Greensborough. 
We  stopped  at  a  hotel  in  which  a  Northern  lady 
had  just  died.  We  never  saw  her,  but  the  land- 
lord's wife,  one  of  the  best  and  tenderest  of  wom- 
en, told  us  she  had  been  brought  there  for  her 
health,  and  then  deserted  by  her  husband  —  a 
brilliant  but  worthless  adventurer  named  Greaves. 
She  left  a  little  girl,  who  was  then  only  a  few 
months  old.  The  landlady  was  full  of  compas- 
sion, but  she  was  not  prosperous,  and  after  we 
had  been  there  some  days  she  yielded  to  our  pro- 
posal that  we  should  adopt  the  child.  We  did 
so,  and —  I  need  not  say  any  more,  sir.  You 
can  tell  better  than  I  who  she  realty  is,  but  it  will 
almost  break  our  hearts  if  we  must  lose  her." 

Mr.  Pluntington  had  dropped  into  his  seat 
again,  and  he  now  leaned  forward,  resting  his 
elbows  on  a  table,  and  his  face  fell  upon  his 
hands. 

"  Answer  me  honorably,"  he  said,  in  a  broken 
voice.  "  You  don't  know  what  this  means  to 
me.  Have  you  any  papers  or  other  articles  con- 
nected with  the  birth  of  the  child?" 

"  Several  letters,  sir,  a  few  pieces  of  clothing, 
and  some  trinkets.   We  always  keep  them  by  us." 


NATTY    BARTON'S   MAGIC  229 

"  Why  have  you  made  no  effort  to  discover 
her  relations  ?" 

"  We  have  made  all  in  our  power,  but  the  in- 
dications were  very  imperfect.  The  letters  were 
dated  from  Washington,  and  were  not  fully 
signed.  They  were  evidently  from  the  lady's 
brother.    The  only  name  at  the  end  was  Kobert." 

"  It  is  mine ;  but  why  did  you  change  that  of 
the  child?" 

"  We  were  led  to  believe  it  was  the  mother's 
wish.  She  had  been  in  terror  lest  her  husband 
should  get  possession  of  the  infant,  and  use  it  as 
a  means — " 

"  I  understand ;  as  a  means  of  extorting 
money." 

"  Precisely,  sir.  The  landlady,  who  had  been 
in  the  poor  sufferer's  confidence,  begged  us  to 
conceal  everything  until  we  could  trace  the 
child's  family.  So  we  called  her  Adela  Boss — 
Adela  being  my  wife's  name,  also — and  for  a 
long  time  we  spared  no  effort  to  find  the  brother 
who  wrote  the  letters  in  our  possession.  Our 
means  were  limited,  and  we  failed.  The  search 
was  discontinued  years  ago.  But  I  may  say, 
without  fear  of  contradiction,  that  the  little  one 
has  been  tenderly  reared,  and  you  can  learn 
from  her  own  lips  if  she  has  ever  been  un- 
happy." 


230  NATTY   BAETON  S   MAGIC 

"  God  bless  you !  I  am  sure  she  has  not.  You 
will  let  me  examine  the  relics  of  which  you 
speak?  I  wish  the  identification  to  be  com- 
plete, and  then — " 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Huntington,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Bar- 
ton, "  what  more  can  you  want  than  a  single 
look  at  the  dear  child's  face  ?  She  is  your  sister 
Helen  alive  again." 

"  Indeed  it  seems  so,  Mrs.  Barton ;  and  now  I 
have  the  explanation  of  the  singular  influence 
her  gentle  voice  and  sweet  smile  have  had  upon 
me.  It  was  a  happy  day  when  your  son  brought 
her  to  my  lonely  house." 

"  For  you,  sir,  but  not  for  us,"  said  Mr.  Ross, 
dejectedly. 

Before  an  answer  could  be  given,  Adela's  voice 
was  heard  at  a  short  distance. 

"  May  I  come  now,  papa  ?  Natty  has  caught 
me  a  funny  turtle,  that  shuts  up  its  head  and  tail, 
and  makes  a  box  of  itself.  I'll  give  it  to  you, 
papa,  and  if  Mr.  Mullins  is  disagreeable  again, 
you  can  take  it  out  of  his  mouth  some  evening." 

She  ran  into  the  arbor,  full  of  gay  vivacity ; 
but  the  mirth  faded  from  her  face  when  she  saw 
that  Mrs.  Boss  was  weeping.  Dropping  her  new 
prize,  she  sprang  to  her  protectress,  crying : 

"  Mamma,  mamma,  what  is  the  matter  %  What 
has  happened  ?" 


NATTY   BARTON  S    MAGIC  231 

"  Something  strange  has  happened,"  said  the 
sorrowing  lady,  endeavoring  to  control  herself. 
"  Something  fortunate  for  you,  Adela,  but  very 
sad  for  me.  "We  have  just  learned  that  Mr. 
Huntington  is  your  uncle." 

"  My  uncle !"  exclaimed  the  child,  in  amaze- 
ment, and  looking  curiously  at  the  lawyer.  "  Are 
you  my  uncle  ?  Are  you — are  you  my  mamma's 
brother  2" 

"  I  am,  my  dear,"  he  answered  ;  "  I  am  your 
mother's  brother,  but  not  this  lady's.     She — " 

"  What  do  }rou  mean  V  demanded  Adela.  "  I 
cannot  understand." 

"  Come  hither,  my  love,"  he  replied,  drawing 
her  to  him.  "  I  am  truly  your  uncle,  and  I  thank 
God  that  I  have  found  you.  You  are  the  only 
one  of  my  near  kindred  left.  My  home  is  yours, 
and  you  must  never  leave  me." 

"Mamma,  what  is  he  saying?"  she  cried, 
breaking  from  him,  and  rushing  again  to  Mrs. 
Eoss.  "I  am  your  little  girl,  and  papa's,  and 
nobody  else's." 

"  My  darling,  we  must  think  of  what  is  right 
and  just.  Mr.  Huntington  will  love  you  dearly, 
and  will  never  separate  us  wholly,  I  believe. 
To-night  I  will  tell  you  all  that  we  have  just 
learned.  You  will  let  her  stay  with  us,  sir,  while 
we  are  in  Fenlowe  ?" 


232  NATTY    BARTON  S    MAGIC 

"I  will  always  stay  with  you,"  declared  the 
child,  in  a  passion  of  grief  and  fear.  "  Do  not 
send  me  away,  mamma.  Oh,  dear  mamma,  I 
shall  die  if  you  do !" 

For  a  moment  nothing  more  was  heard  than 
her  piteous  sobs,  as  she  lay  in  Mrs.  Ross's  arms. 
Then  the  lawyer  spoke  again,  in  faltering  ac- 
cents. 

"  It  would  be  hard  indeed  if  the  heart  of  my 
sister's  child  were  turned  against  me  on  the  very 
day  of  her  restoration.  Listen  to  me,  dear.  This 
must  be  your  home,  as  I  have  said ;  but  I  have 
no  wish  to  take  you  from  her  avIio  has  cherished 
and  guarded  you  all  your  life.  Your  strong  af- 
fection for  her  shows  how  worthily  she  has  tried 
to  fill  the  place  of  the  mother  whom  you  never 
knew.  It  is  too  early  to  speak  decisively,  but  I 
am  confident  we  can  arrange  a  plan  by  which 
Mrs.  Ross  will  consent  to  watch  over  you  here- 
after, as  she  has  always  done." 

"  You  will  not  keep  mamma  away  from  me  ? 
She  is  my  mamma,  you  know,"  said  the  trem- 
bling girl,  still  anxious  and  alarmed. 

"  Not  for  the  world,  if  she  will  remain  with  us. 
Are  you,  Mr.  Ross,  much  attached  to  your  pres- 
ent calling  ?" 

"  Frankly,  sir,"  answered  the  magician,  "  it 
was  pleasant,  when  Ave  were  younger,  to  wander 


-Wjj      ' 


NATTY    BAKT0N  S   MAGIC  233 

about  the  country,  earning  our  humble  liveli- 
hood by  providing  amusement  for  others;  but 
the  charm  does  not  last  forever,  and  the  chances 
of  success  are  uncertain,  as  you  have  seen.  Yet, 
at  my  age,  it  is  not  easy  to  strike  into  a  new 
path." 

"Leave  that  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Huntington. 
u  My  interests  are  large,  and  I  shall  have  no  dif- 
ficulty, I  think,  in  offering  you  a  satisfactory  oc- 
cupation. Nothing  that  I  can  do  will  ever  repay 
what  I  owe  you." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Huntington,"  exclaimed  the  still  be- 
wildered child,  "  do  you  mean  that  mamma  shall 
rest  here,  and  get  well  and  strong  ?" 

"  I  hope  so." 

"  And  papa  shall  have  no  more  trouble  ?" 

"  ISTot  if  you  and  I  can  prevent  it." 

"  Then  you  are  the  best  gentleman  I  ever 
knew,  and  I  am  willing  to  be  your  little  girl, 
too.  But  it  is  so  wonderful.  More  wonderful 
than  anything  I  have  seen  you  do,  papa." 

''  Yes,  dear,"  Mr.  Ross  acknowledged  ;  "  and  it 
is  all  real,  too,  though  I  can  hardly  believe  it  yet. 
We  are  not  the  enchanters  in  this  case.  Natty 
Barton  is  the  magician  who  has  brought  it  all 
about." 

So  every  one  felt  and  said.  Natty's  honest 
face  glowed   as  he  listened  to  the  praise  and 


234  NATTY    BAETON  S  MAGIC 

thanks  lavished  upon  him,  and  his  mother  was 
proud  of  the  happy  consequences  of  her  boy's 
kindly  actions.  As  Mr.  Huntington  had  assured 
them,  there  was  no  difficulty  in  finding  a  suita- 
ble field  for  Mr.  Ross's  activit}r,  and  his  industry 
and  fidelit}^  made  him  a  valuable  agent  in  con- 
ducting portions  of  his  wealthy  patron's  private 
business.  He  took  charge  of  considerable  prop- 
ert}r  in  Fenlowe,  including  the  hall  from  which 
so  unfair  an  attempt  had  been  made  to  banish 
him ;  for  the  owner  decided,  after  investigation, 
that  it  was  not  wise  to  lease  that  establishment 
again  to  a  man  of  Mr.  Mullins's  unpleasant  hu- 
mors. Many  persons  were  forward  in  express- 
ing doubts  as  to  the  propriety  of  prolonging  the 
connection  between  Robert  Huntington's  niece 
and  her  former  guardians,  whose  recent  calling 
could  not  be  forgotten,  and  whose  social  grade 
was  supposed  to  be  far  below  that  to  which  the 
newly  discovered  heiress  had  risen.  But  the 
lawyer  sturdily  rejected  these  suggestions,  de- 
claring that  the  conduct  of  the  kind-hearted  con- 
jurer and  his  wife  in  fostering  the  orphan  child 
had  been  generous  and  noble ;  and  that,  as  they 
had  brought  back  the  sunshine  to  his  home,  he 
would  do  his  best  to  keep  the  clouds  away  from 
their  future  life.  He  never  had  cause  to  repent 
his  resolution.      Mrs.  Ross's  devotion  was  con- 


NATTY    BARTON  S    MAGIC  235 

stant,  and  the  young  girl's  destiny  was  secure  in 
her  tender  and  loving  care.  Adela  Ross  gave 
place  in  name  to  Helen  Huntington  (since  her 
uncle  could  not  bear  to  hear  her  called  Helen 
Greaves),  but  her  sweet  and  gracious  spirit  re- 
mained unchanged,  and  was  the  light  and  cheer 
of  the  household  in  which  she  was  treasured. 
The  years  passed  by,  filled  with  tranquil  happi- 
ness to  those  who  Avere  brought  together  by  the 
events  here  narrated,  and  with  a  never-fading 
recollection  of  the  beneficent  results  of  Natty 
Barton's  magic. 


OUR    UGLY   IDOL 


BITTERS 


Ugly?  Well,  since  you  ask  me,  I  will  admit 
lie's  not  a  handsome  dog,  but  we  never  think 
about  that,  one  way  or  the  other.  As  to  his  be- 
ing a  proper  dog  for  the  parlor,  I  can  only  say 
that  if  there  was  a  better  room  than  the  par- 
lor anywhere  in  our  house,  he  would  always 
be  welcome  to  it.  Would  you  like  to  know 
why  ?  Then  you  shall  hear  it  all  from  the  be- 
ginning. 

I  was  just  fourteen  years  old  when  I  became 
the  owner  of  Scar.  He  had  a  history  before  he 
was  given  to  me,  which  I  must  tell  first,  in  order 
to  introduce  him  properly.  Good  dogs  have  as 
much  right  to  an  introduction  as  good  boys  and 
girls,  or  grown-up  people,  for  that  matter.  If 
you  should  see  Scar  go  through  the  ceremony  of 


OUK   UGLY   IDOL  237 

a  polite  introduction,  you  would  say — but  never 
mind  ;  it  is  too  early  to  speak  of  such  things  as 
his  manners  in  company. 

When  I  mention  good  dogs  I  do  not  mean  that 
Scar  always  belonged  to  that  class.  Most  of  us 
thought  at  one  time  that  he  was  a  very  bad  dog. 
His  first  master  lived  at  the  corner  of  our  street, 
and  kept  a  shop  with  a  large  window,  on  which 
the  words  "  Fruit  Store  "  were  painted.  When  I 
was  about  ten  years  old  I  went  in  there  once 
and  inquired  if  I  could  buy  a  watermelon.  Laura, 
my  little  sister,  was  with  me.  The  place  was  full 
of  rough  men,  who  looked  as  if  they  had  no  in- 
terest in  watermelons  or  any  kind  of  fruit.  They 
all  began  to  laugh,  but  the  shopkeeper  wTas  very 
civil  and  good-natured.  He  said  he  had  sold  his 
watermelons,  but  he  had  a  nice  lemon  to  offer 
me,  if  that  would  do.  I  supposed  it  would  have 
to  do,  because  I  saw  nothing  else  that  looked  like 
fruit.  I  did  not  much  want  it,  but  the  man 
seemed  so  sorry  about  the  melon  that  I  hated  to 
go  without  taking  something.  When  I  asked 
what  the  price  was  he  said  he  couldn't  think  of 
charging  anything,  as  that  was  my  first  visit.  So 
I  thanked  him,  and  Laura  thanked  him  too  very 
prettily,  upon  which  he  gave  her  a  lump  of  sugar 
and  some  little  sticks  of  cinnamon  which  he  took 
from  a  saucer,  and  wrapped  up  in  a  piece  of  pa- 


238  OUR    UGLY   IDOL 

per.  Then  he  asked  if  we  would  like  to  see  his 
beautiful  dog. 

Of  course  I  said  we  should  like  it,  and  he  told 
a  boy  to  bring  Bitters,  which  I  thought  was  a 
strange  name  for  a  dog,  and  particularly  for  a 
beautiful  dog.  But  when  Bitters  appeared  I  was 
still  more  astonished.  He  was  a  bull-terrier,  all 
tan -color,  with  dreadfully  impatient  eyes  and 
quarrelsome  teeth.  He  was  covered  with  dirt, 
and  had  the  most  disagreeable  appearance  of  any 
dog  I  ever  met. 

"Isn't  he  a  picture?1'  said  the  shopman. 

I  supposed  he  loved  his  dog,  as  everybody  does, 
and  I  didn't  wish  to  hurt  his  feelings  ;  so  I  an- 
swered :  "  I  don't  know  much  about  that  kind  of 
dog.     Perhaps  he  isn't  very  well  to-day." 

"  Oh,  he's  in  prime  condition,"  said  the  man. 
"He  killed  sixteen  rats  this  morning,  and  whip- 
ped a  dog  twice  his  size  only  an  hour  ago." 

"  Dear  me,"  said  I ;  "he  does  look  a  little  fierce." 

"  Bless  you,  no,"  answered  the  man.  "  He  had 
lots  of  fierceness  in  him  when  he  was  a  puppy, 
but  we  drove  it  all  into  his  ears  and  tail,  and 
then  we  cut  them  off.  Now  he's  as  gentle  as  an 
angel  baby." 

When  Laura  heard  this  she  stepped  forward  to 
caress  him ;  but  he  suddenly  curled  up  his  lip 
like  a  cockle-shell,  and  snarled  in  such  an  ill- 


OUK   UGLY    IDOL  239 

tempered  way  that  I  thought  it  best  to  jump  in 
front  of  his  mouth.  It  was  well  I  did  so,  for  he 
made  a  quick  snap,  and  tore  away  a  strip  of  my 
trousers.  It  might  have  been  a  strip  of  me,  which 
would  have  been  bad ;  but  if  it  had  been  a  strip 
of  Laura,  that  would  have  been  horrible. 

The  shopman  gave  Bitters  a  frightful  kick, 
and  scolded  the  boy  savagely  for  not  minding 
the  rope  with  which  the  dog  was  held.  Then  he 
turned  to  me  very  anxiously,  and  I  noticed  that 
his  voice  was  unsteady  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  wouldn't  have  had  it  happen  for  a  hundred 
dollars,"  he  said.  "  But  he  didn't  hurt  you?  Xo, 
nor  frighten  you  either,  I'll  be  bound.  You  are 
a  brave  little  man,  to  stand  between  danger  and 
your  sister.  If  ever  I  part  with  Bitters,  you  shall 
have  him — there  !  But  now,  young  gentleman, 
you'd  better  go.  Much  obliged  for  your  visit, 
but  this  isn't  quite  the  place  for  you.  Don't 
think  hard  of  Bitters.     Bitters  is  a  good  dog." 

But  this  is  not  what  I  meant  by  a  proper  in- 
troduction to  Scar.  It  may  stand  as  my  intro- 
duction to  him,  if  you  please,  for,  as  you  have 
guessed,  Bitters  and  Scar  are  one  and  the  same 
person.  If  you  have  studied  French,  }rou  will 
permit  me  to  refer  to  him  as  Scar,  ne  Bitters. 
But  I  wish  him  to  have  a  different  sort  of  intro- 
duction to  you,  lest  you  should  be  too  severely 


240  OUR  UGLY   IDOL 

prejudiced  against  him  at  the  outset.  I  must 
acknowledge  that  after  that  first  interview  I 
made  no  attempt  to  keep  up  the  acquaintance, 
and  in  fact  we  did  not  come  together  again  till 
close  upon  the  end  of  my  thirteenth  year,  when 
a  startling  event  occurred. 

Papa  had  often  spoken  about  the  misfortune 
of  having  a  common  bar-room  (for  that  is  what 
the  "  fruit  store  "  truly  was)  so  near  our  house, 
but  said  it  was  one  of  the  troubles  that  could  not 
always  be  avoided  in  a  large  city.  One  night 
there  was  a  great  disturbance  at  the  corner.  I 
slept  too  soundly  to  hear  the  pistol-shots  and  the 
breaking  glass ;  but  next  morning  we  were  told 
there  had  been  a  terrible  fight,  and  that  the 
keeper  of  the  place  had  been  nearly  killed.  He 
did,  in  fact,  die  a  few  days  later.  The  most 
remarkable  thing  was  that  the  murderer  was 
caught  and  brought  to  justice  by — whom  do  you 
think?  By  nobody  but  Bitters,  the  bull-terrier. 
During  the  fight  he  fastened  himself  upon  the 
man  who  had  struck  down  his  master,  and  never 
let  go  his  grip  until  the  police  came.  The  poor 
dog  was  cruelly  cut  and  mangled,  but  nothing 
could  loosen  his  hold ;  and  although  he  was  half 
insensible,  they  had  to  pry  his  mouth  open  with 
one  of  those  patent  corkscrews  that  look  like  the 
letter  X,  before  they  could  get  him  away. 


OUR   TJGLY   IDOL  241 

Bitters  and  his  master  were  taken  to  the  same 
hospital,  for  the  liquor- dealer  was  well  off,  and 
could  pay  for  his  fancies.  The  doctors  did  all 
they  could  for  them  both,  but  the  man's  health 
had  been  ruined  by  evil  habits,  and  he  died.  Bit- 
ters had  not  been  well  brought  up,  it  is  true  ;  but 
at  least  he  was  not  a  drinking  dog,  and  his  con- 
stitution was  sound.     So  he  eventually  got  well. 

"We  first  heard  of  the  barkeeper's  death  and 
burial  in  this  way :  A  woman  called  one  evening 
and  asked  if  she  could  speak  with  Mr.  Etheridge 
and  his  eldest  son.  Papa  went  alone  to  see  who 
it  was  and  what  she  wanted,  but  presently  he 
sent  for  mamma  and  me. 

"  This  is  the  widow  of  Mr.  Kerrigan,  who  lived 
at  the  corner,"  said  my  father.  "  She  has  a  pro- 
posal to  make  to  Arthur." 

"Indeed  yes,  sir  and  ma'am,"  said  the  woman, 
who  spoke  with  a  brogue  which  I  don't  think  I 
will  try  to  imitate.  "  That  is  the  young  gentle- 
man, and  this  it  is  I  have  to  tell.  "When  my  poor 
Michael  was  settling  his  affairs,  just  before  he 
died,  he  says  to  me,  '  Matilda  Kerrigan,  there's 
Bitters.  It  is  hard  upon  me  to  give  up  the  dog, 
but  it's  a  matter  of  three  years  ago  that  I  prom- 
ised if  I  ever  parted  with  him  he  should  be  made 
over  to  young  Mister  Etheridge,  for  I  believe 
that  lad  has  the  spirit  in  him  to  manage  the 


242  OUK   UGLY   IDOL 

beast,  and  the  heart  to  train  him  up  as  becomes 
a  dog  of  his  merit.  Do  you  mind,'  says  Michael, 
'  the  day  he  stood  up  against  Bitters,  man  to 
man,  and  never  budged  while  the  brute  was  mak- 
ing mince-meat  of  his  pantaloons  V  Often  would 
my  husband  talk  about  it,  sir  and  ma'am,  almost 
as  proud  of  your  son,  asking  your  pardon  for  the 
liberty,  as  he  was  of  the  bull-terrier ;  and  Tiim  he 
looked  upon  as  if  the  dog  was  own  twins  with 
our  little  Michael,  they  being  the  same  age  to  a 
week." 

I  saw  my  father  lift  his  eyebrows,  and  mamma 
look  rather  uncomfortable — I  presume  at  the 
idea  of  my  having  anything  to  do  with  so  fero- 
cious an  animal.  It  was  not  an  agreeable  idea  to 
me  either,  though  I  naturally  felt  interested  in 
Mrs.  Kerrigan's  story. 

"When  Michael  was  buried,"  she  went  on, 
"  the  dog  was  able  to  limp  about,  and  nothing 
we  could  do  would  keep  him  from  going  to  the 
funeral.  Hard  words  he  laughed  at,  and  when 
the  undertaker  showed  him  a  whip  he  lifted  his 
lip  till  you  saw  the  black  mischief  creeping  all 
around  his  mouth.  So  he  was  allowed  to  make  a 
separate  procession  by  himself,  under  the  hearse, 
interfering  with  nobody  so  long  as  nobody  inter- 
fered with  him.  But  it  was  great  trouble  he 
gave  us  at  the  grave,  trying  to  leap  in,  the  faith- 


OUK   UGLY   IDOL  243 

fill  dumb  creature,  and  begging  to  be  covered 
out  of  sight  with  his  master.  Then  my  heart 
went  straight  to  him,  and  I  paid  half  a  dollar 
each  to  Jane  Eooue}^'s  two  boys  to  bring  him 
home,  and  a  losing  job  it  was  for  them,  the  doc- 
tor and  the  ointment  for  Jimmy  Rooney's  legs 
costing  more  than  the  whole  bargain  money. 
And  now,  sir  and  ma'am,  it's  filled  with  shame  I 
am  at  what  comes  next.  Well  did  I  remember 
Michael's  command,  but  the  pride  that  was  in 
me  at  owning  the  noblest  beast  in  the  ward  held 
my  hand,  and  I  took  no  heed  of  my  honest  duty. 
'A  comfort  to  my  loneliness  he  shall  be,'  says  I, 
'  with  visitors  coming  from  all  parts  to  admire 
the  marks  of  his  wounds  in  the  fight.' " 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Mrs.  Kerrigan,"  said  my 
father.  "  Don't  give  him  up  on  any  account. 
No  one  else  could  appreciate  him  so  well  as 
you  do." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  for  the  kind  words,"  replied 
Mrs.  Kerrigan.  "  But  I've  had  a  warning.  Not 
one  warning  only,  but  many.  The  first  night 
after  the  burying  I  tied  him  in  the  yard,  as  usual, 
and  in  the  morning  he  was  gone,  leaving  nothing 
but  the  end  of  his  rope.  We  hunted  till  the 
afternoon,  when  a  gateman  came  from  the  ceme- 
teiy,  very  angry,  telling  me  to  take  the  dog  from 
Mr.  Kerrigan's  lot,  or  they  would  shoot  him.    We 


244  OUR   UGLY   IDOL 

got  him  home  again,  and  fastened  him  with  a 
chain,  but  the  power  that's  in  him  you'd  not  be- 
lieve. He  broke  it  short  off ;  and  when  we  sent 
the  next  day,  knowing  by  this  time  where  to 
hunt  for  him,  we  found  him  stretched  on  the 
sods,  looking  weary  and  downcast,  but  not  dis- 
contented till  he  was  pulled  away.  Then  we 
locked  him  in  the  kitchen,  and  again  no  use,  for 
at  daylight  it  was  empty,  except  a  few  hairs 
sticking  to  the  broken  glass  in  the  window.  And 
so  it  went  on.  Sometimes  we  managed  to  keep 
him  overnight,  but  sooner  or  later  he  was  off, 
and  nothing  could  stay  him.  Once  he  jumped 
from  the  second  story  to  the  street,  and  once 
he  crawled  up  from  the  cellar  to  the  sidewalk 
through  the  tunnel  while  we  were  taking  in  coals. 
How  he  ever  found  his  way  is  the  wonder  of 
wonders,  for  it  is  full  four  miles  to  the  grave- 
yard, and  Bitters,  being  a  bull  -  terrier,  has  no 
nose  to  help  him,  sir,  as  you  know  quite  well, 
ma'am.  But  Bitters  is  no  common  dog ;  indeed, 
indeed  he  is  not." 

Perhaps  it  was  because  I  had  lately  been  read- 
ing of  a  dog  in  Edinburgh,  Scotland,  who  showed 
the  same  devotion  to  his  dead  master;  but  what- 
ever was  the  reason,  something  suddenly  made 
me  feel  very  differently  towards  Bitters  from 
what  I  had  ever  felt  before.     I  wanted  to  say  so 


OUR   UGLY  IDOL  245 

at  once,  but  papa  checked  me,  and  Mrs.  Kerrigan 
brought  her  story  to  a  close. 

"  Now  I  see  my  way  clear,  and  it  makes  me 
tremble  to  think  of  the  harm  that  might  have 
come  from  my  disobeying  Michael's  last  words. 
And  I  made  up  my  mind  to-day  to  do  what  is 
right  and  dutiful.  The  dog  is  young  Mister 
Etheridge's  from  this  hour.  A  fine  creature  he 
is,  and  a  delight  he'll  be  to  his  new  owner.  It 
does  distress  me  to  let  him  go,  with  his  playful- 
ness and  his  pretty  ways,  but  I  know  he  will  be 
well  treated  and  respected  in  this  house.  No- 
body could  help  taking  kindly  to  Bitters.  You 
say  the  word,  sir,  and  I'll  leave  him  here  this 
very  night." 

My  father  is  a  most  considerate  man,  and  I 
knew  he  did  not  like  to  let  Mrs.  Kerrigan  see  the 
difference  between  our  opinion  of  Bitters  and  her 
own.  Moreover,  as  he  told  me  afterwards,  he 
was  unwilling  to  make  light  of  her  superstitious 
notions  about  the  warning,  or  to  alarm  her  by 
sending  her  away  with  a  positive  refusal.  lie 
said  to  her : 

"Madam,  it  would  be  impossible  to  receive 
such  a  guest  as  your  bull-terrier  without  making 
some  preparation,  and  indeed  your  generous  offer 
deserves  more  reflection  than  I  can  give  it  at  this 
moment.     I  will  call  on  3^011  to-morrow  evening, 


246  OUR   UGLY   IDOL 

and  will  then  let  yon  know  our  decision  in  the 
matter." 

Then,  observing  an  expression  of  disappoint- 
ment on  her  face,  he  added,  "I  assure  you  we 
are  greatly  struck  by  your  dog's  courage  and 
endurance,  and  especially  his  rare  fidelity." 

Our  visitor  looked  as  if  she  wondered  how 
anybody  could  hesitate  when  such  a  splendid 
chance  was  freely  presented,  but  she  simply  an- 
swered thus :  "  ]STo  doubt,  sir  and  ma'am,  you 
feel  the  responsibility  of  taking  charge  of  a  dog 
like  Bitters,  and  of  course  it  does  fall  heavy  upon 
a  young  person.  But  my  husband  was  clear- 
headed, and  when  it  came  to  sporting  animals 
his  judgment  was  sound.  He  wouldn't  have 
picked  out  your  son  without  good  reason.  Be- 
sides, there's  the  warnings." 

As  soon  as  she  had  gone,  my  mother  said : 
"  There  is  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  make  the 
refusal  as  easy  as  possible,  and  not  allow  the 
poor  woman  to  know  what  an  awful  monster 
that  dog  is  in  our  sight.  She  evidently  thinks  it 
one  of  the  greatest  treasures  on  the  earth." 

My  father  looked  steadily  at  me,  and  reflected 
for  a  moment  before  he  answered. 

"  This  is  my  idea,"  he  said  at  last :  "  we  will 
have  a  family  parliament  on  the  subject  to-mor- 
row afternoon ;  vour  uncle  Richard  shall  come  to 


OUR   UGLY   IDOL  247 

dinner,  Arthur,  and  take  part  in  the  debate.  I 
promise  to  listen  carefully  to  all  that  may  be  said 
on  both  sides  of  the  question,  and  my  judgment 
shall  be  impartial.  Don't  you  think  that  will  be 
better  than  to  settle  it  hastily  now  ?" 

"Oh  yes,  indeed,  papa,"  I  cried;  "much  better, 
if  mamma  is  willing." 

"Quite  Avilling,"  said  mamma,  smiling ;  "but 
you  must  not  expect  me  to  speak  in  favor  of  ac- 
cepting Bitters." 

Then  I  went  to  bed,  eagerly  looking  forward 
to  the  next  day's  family  parliament,  at  which  I 
meant  to  plead  with  all  my  might  for  the  poor 
animal,  which  seemed  so  much  in  need  of  my 
protection.  And  if  I  must  fail,  I  thought  to  my- 
self, it  should  not  be  for  want  of  hard  trying. 


II 

SCAR 

By  the  time  our  meeting  was  held  on  the  fol- 
lowing afternoon  I  had  forgotten  almost  every- 
thing there  was  unpleasant  about  the  dog  in  my 
admiration  of  his  virtues  of  bravery  and  fidelity. 
Uncle  Richard  came  promptly,  and  told  us  he 


248  OUR   UGLY    IDOL 

had  already  constituted  himself  a  committee  to 
make  inquiries  in  the  neighborhood,  but  he  would 
not  tell  us  whether  he  had  formed  any  opinion  or 
not.  At  four  o'clock  papa  invited  mamma,  Uncle 
Richard,  and  me  into  his  study,  and  asked  us  to 
take  places  at  his  large  table. 

"  I  have  called  this  assemblage  together,"  he 
said,  "  because  it  seems  proper  to  give  Arthur  a 
fair  hearing.  Last  night  he  was  rather  too  con- 
fused and  excited  to  express  himself  clearly. 
Now  let  us  listen  to  what  he  lias  to  say." 

I  had  a  great  deal  to  say — more,  I  am  afraid, 
than  mamma  was  pleased  to  hear.  But  she  was 
very  patient,  and  listened  kindly  while  I  told 
about  the  dog  in  Scotland  that  had  become  fa- 
mous for  acting  almost  exactly  as  Bitters  had  done, 
and  asked  if  it  was  not  possible  that  a  creature 
so  fearless  and  so  true  to  its  master  might  have 
other  good  qualities  which  we  could  find  out  by 
looking  for  them  diligently.  Then  I  pointed  to 
our  picture  of  the  Education  of  an  Eastern  Prince, 
where  there  is  a  lion,  very  majestic,  but  very 
gentle,  without  any  fastening,  and  surrounded  by 
children.  I  said  I  thought  if  a  lion  could  be 
made  so  mild  by  careful  training,  a  bull-terrier 
could  surely  be  tamed. 

"  I  see,  my  dear,"  said  mamma,  good-naturedly ; 
"  you  want  to  be  the  Eastern  Prince." 


OUR   UGLY    IDOL  240 

"No,  mamma,"  I  said.  "  Baby  Daisy  shall  be 
an  Eastern  Princess,  if  you  please ;  I  will  be  only 
the  keeper." 

"  But  a  lion  is  a  noble-looking  beast,"  said  mam- 
ma, "  and  this  is  such  a  hideous  thing !" 

So  he  was ;  I  could  not  deny  that ;  but  after 
considering  a  little,  I  said :  "  He  wouldn't  be  quite 
so  ugly  as  he  is  if  his  head  had  not  been  cut  while 
he  was  defending  his  master.  I  remember,  mam- 
ma, what  you  have  always  told  us  about  honor- 
able scars." 

Mamma  laughed,  and  gave  an  odd  look  at 
Uncle  Kichard,  who  had  been  wounded  badly  in 
the  face  during  the  war. 

"  Oho,  young  gentleman !"  exclaimed  my  uncle, 
ii  so  you  mean  to  bring  me  in  as  an  example  and 
an  argument." 

"  No,  Uncle  Kichard,"  I  answered,  feeling  not 
at  all  comfortable.  "  I  couldn't  do  that ;  at  least, 
I  did  not  mean  to,  only  just  at  the  moment — " 
!  "  I  see,"  he  said,  making  it  easy  by  interrupt- 
ing me.  "  It  was  natural  enough.  But,  Arthur, 
your  mother  does  not  object  so  much  to  the  dog's 
appearance  as  to  his  violent  temper  and  cross 
disposition." 

"I  know  it,"  said  I,  "but  all  that  might  be 
changed.  Uncle  Kichard,  I  thought  you  would 
be  on  my  side.     Oh,  mamma,  I  should  like  to 


250  OUR   UGLY   IDOL 

try ;  I  should  be   so  proud  if  I   could  reform 
him." 

It  turned  out  that  Uncle  Richard  was  on  my 
side,  and  papa  not  much  against  me ;  and  the  end 
of  it  was  that  mamma  put  away  her  unwilling- 
ness, and  I  was  allowed  to  take  Bitters,  with  the 
understanding  that  if  I  could  not  do  anything 
with  him  in  a  month  I  should  give  up  the  at- 
tempt. I  confess  that  when  he  was  brought 
into  our  yard  at  the  end  of  a  strong,  heavy  chain, 
m}^  resolution  was  shaken.  He  was  indeed  an 
awful  object.  His  lower  jaw  seemed  as  if  it 
must  have  been  intended  for  a  dog  several  sizes 
bigger,  and  his  fore-legs  were  curved  like  a  pair 
of  parenthesis  marks,  or  a  barrel-hoop  cut  in  two. 
His  face  had  always  been  painful  to  look  at,  but 
now  it  was  ten  times  worse,  owing  to  the  blows 
and  slashes  he  had  received.  Then  there  was 
one  long  seam  stretching  from  the  side  of  his 
head  down  to  where  his  tail  ought  to  commence. 
Uncle  Richard,  who  was  formerly  a  brigadier- 
general,  said  there  was  more  scar  than  dog,  but 
it  was  no  disgrace,  as  he  had  been  cut  to  pieces 
in  loyal  combat.  That  first  gave  me  the  idea  of 
calling  him  Scar.  None  of  us  could  bear  the 
name  of  Bitters,  and  Scar  suited  him  exactly. 
Everybody  would  be  sure  to  ask  what  it  meant, 
and  I  could  have  the  opportunity  of  telling  his 


OUR   UGLY   IDOL  251 

story,  and  letting  people  know  there  was  more 
good  in  him  than  you  would  suspect  from  his  out- 
ward looks. 

Scar  was  so  fierce  and  unfriendly,  and  so  eager 
all  the  time  to  break  loose,  that  for  several  days 
I  could  do  nothing  with  him.  I  have  no  doubt 
he  was  always  thinking  how  he  could  get  back 
to  the  burial-ground.  He  sneered  at  every  word 
of  kindness  I  spoke  to  him,  and  if  I  scolded,  he 
put  on  a  look  of  scorn  such  as  very  few  animals 
except  a  full-blooded  bull-terrier  can  show.  I 
read  a  great  many  books  on  dogs,  but  found  noth- 
ing in  them  that  made  any  impression  on  him, 
and  I  learned  my  first  practical  lesson  at  the  ex- 
pense of  a  terrible  fright. 

Freddy  and  Laura,  my  young  brother  and  sister, 
had  been  warned  never  to  go  near  the  spot  where 
Scar  was  fastened,  but  our  baby,  Daisy,  was  such 
a  little  thing  that  nobody  dreamed  of  her  getting 
into  danger.  Imagine  what  I  felt  when  I  came 
in  one  day  after  school,  by  the  back  gate,  and 
saw  Daisy  lying  on  the  ground  entirely  mixed 
up  with  the  dog,  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
one  of  his  paws  all  tangled  in  her  curly  hair. 
My  heart  went  to  my  mouth,  I  can  tell  you.  I 
hardly  dared  to  stir,  but  as  I  stood  staring  at 
them,  Daisy  began  to  laugh,  and  I  could  see 
the  bristles  wiggle  at  the  end  of  Scar's  back, 


252  OUE    UGLY    IDOL 

where  the  tail  would  have  joined  the  body  if  it 
hadn't  been  cut  short  off.  That  was  as  near  as 
he  could  come  to  a  wag,  and  I  believe  he  meant 
to  tell  me  there  was  nothing  to  be  alarmed 
about,  and  that  Daisy  was  safe  in  his  society. 
When  I  went  straight  to  him,  without  stopping 
to  think  how  cross  he  generally  was,  and  pulled 
him  away  from  her,  he  did  not  make  the  least 
objection,  and  only  blinked  his  queer  little  eyes, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  Oh,  if  you  are  going  to  take 
that  tone  with  me,  and  act  as  a  master  ought  to 
act,  and  not  be  afraid  of  me,  I  suppose  I  must 
submit."     And  that  was  exactly  what  I  did. 

From  that  moment  I  had  no  trouble  with  Scar. 
He  was  as  yielding  as  if  he  had  never  known 
what  obstinacy  was.  He  always  understood 
that  he  belonged  to  me  and  nobody  else,  but 
he  seemed  to  have  the  greatest  fondness  for 
Daisy.  She  could  take  all  sorts  of  liberties  with 
him,  and  the  more  she  took  the  better  pleased 
he  was.  I  believe  it  was  because  she  was  the 
first  one  to  go  to  him  without  any  fear,  and 
make  a  playfellow  of  him. 

Pretty  soon  I  began  to  teach  him  tricks.  Some 
people  say  bull-terriers  are  dull  and  stupid,  and 
that  their  foreheads  are  so  low  they  have  no 
room  for  brains.  That  wasn't  so  with  Scar.  He 
had  plenty  of  brains  somewhere.     Maybe  they 


H  __ _^s== 


OUK   UGLY   IDOL  253 

were  down  in  his  lower  jaw,  where  there  was 
room  enough  for  anything.  He  was  willing  to 
learn  all  that  I  could  teach  hiin,  and  he  grew 
quite  vain  as  his  education  progressed.  In  less 
than  six  months  he  was  the  talk  of  our  neighbor- 
hood. Mrs.  Kerrigan  came  once  to  see  him,  but 
she  did  not  like  him  at  all  in  his  new  character. 
She  said  I  had  made  a  French  poodle  of  him,  and 
that  he  was  fit  only  for  a  circus,  and  would  never 
be  worth  anything  in  a  fight.  But  I  didn't  want 
him  to  fight  any  more,  now  that  he  was  my  dog. 
We  took  off  his  chain  after  the  first  few  weeks, 
and  he  made  no  attempt  to  run  away.  But  one 
afternoon,  when  we  were  out  driving,  and  Scar 
was  following  the  carriage,  we  happened  to  pass 
the  gate  of  a  large  cemetery.  In  an  instant  he 
left  us,  and  disappeared  in  one  of  the  avenues. 
It  was  easy  to  understand  where  he  had  gone. 
With  mother's  permission,  I  inquired  where 
Mr.  Kerrigan  was  buried,  and  we  all  went  in  the 
direction  that  was  pointed  out.  As  we  drew 
near  a  particular  enclosure-  we  saw  Scar  before 
he  saw  us;  and  what  do  you  think  he  was  doing? 
He  was  going  through  his  best  tricks,  one  after 
another,  all  alone  on  his  old  master's  grave.  I 
wondered  with  all  my  heart  what  could  be  pass- 
ing in  the  poor  dog's  mind.  I  asked  mamma  if 
it  was  possible  that  he  thought  he  could  convey 


254  OUR   UGLY   IDOL 

some  idea  of  his  accomplishments — of  which  he 
was  so  proud— to  his  former  owner,  lying  there 
beneath  the  earth.  Mamma  said  it  might  be  so, 
but  on  one  could  tell  with  certainty.  She  spoke 
more  kindly  to  Scar  than  I  had  ever  before  heard 
her.  He  stopped  performing  at  once,  and  looked 
at  us  in  a  puzzled,  inquiring  way.  I  called  him, 
and  after  reflecting  an  instant  he  followed  us 
slowly,  stopping  every  little  while,  however,  as 
if  he  wished  he  could  persuade  us  to  remain  there 
with  him  ;  but  he  did  not  lose  sight  of  us.  Once 
outside  the  cemetery,  he  realized  what  his  true 
duty  was,  and  trotted  after  the  carriage  as  steadily 
as  ever.  Since  then  we  have  seen  nothing  in 
Scar  to  make  us  think  of  what  he  was  in  the 
days  when  he  was  young  and  kept  bad  company. 

"  Nothing  except  his  ugliness,"  did  you  say  ? 
Well,  as  I  told  you  before,  no  one  in  this  family 
cares  much  about  that,  or  ever  considers  whether 
he  is  ugly  or  not.  We  love  him  too  well  to  want 
him  changed  in  any  particular.  There  is  some- 
thing you  haven't  heard  yet. 

The  next  summer  after  he  came  to  us  I  had 
that  bad  attack  of  typhus-fever,  as  you  may  re- 
member, and  to  help  me  over  it  father  took  us 
all  yachting  up  and  down  Long  Island  Sound. 
One  day,  when  we  were  stopping  near  New 
London,  I  was  lying  on  deck  in  a  long  chair, 


OUK   UGLY    IDOL  255 

with  Scar  at  my  feet,  and  the  other  children  play- 
ing all  around.  Father  and  mother  and  Uncle 
Eichard  were  in  the  cabin,  out  of  the  sun.  Every 
one  of  the  crew  had  gone  ashore  except  a  single 
man  to  keep  watch.  I  was  not  well  enough  to 
notice  much  of  what  was  going  on,  so  I  under- 
stood very  little  of  how  it  happened ;  but  I  knew 
there  was  a  great  cry  and  a  splash,  and  then, 
turning  myself  about,  I  saw  Daisy  struggling  in 
the  water.  I  was  too  weak  to  lift  myself,  and 
neither  Freddy  nor  Laura  could  do  anything,  of 
course.  I  called  to  the  watchman  as  loud  as  I 
could,  "  Jump  !  jump !"  But  he  looked  at  me, 
as  pale  as  marble,  and  cried,  "I  can't,  Master 
Arthur ;  I  can't  swim  a  stroke."  Only  think  of 
it,  and  he  a  good  sailor,  too !  But  he  was  over 
the  side  and  in  a  boat  with  wonderful  speed. 

Quick  as  he  was,  however,  there  was  somebody 
quicker.  Like  an  echo  to  Daisy's  splash,  I  heard 
another,  and  there  was  Scar  banging  the  surface 
of  Long  Island  Sound  with  his  crooked  paws,  and 
holding  Daisy's  dress  in  his  great  mouth.  I  could 
hardly  believe  my  eyes,  for  Scar  hated  water 
like  medicine,  and  would  not  even  be  washed 
without  making  a  mighty  fuss ;  and  there's  many 
a  bull-terrier  would  sooner  drown  than  swim  a 
stroke  for  his  life.  But  there  he  was — I  don't 
know  how  to  tell  it — coughing,  sneezing,  splutter- 


256  OUR   UGLY    IDOL 

ing,  kicking  out  all  ways  at  once,  but  never  let- 
ting go  his  hold  of  Daisy's  frock.  Everything 
seemed  to  take  place  together,  at  the  same  mo- 
ment. Father  and  mother  and  Uncle  Richard 
came  running  from  below  just  as  the  sailor 
picked  up  Daisy  and  dragged  her  into  tne  boat. 
In  a  minute  more  she  was  in  mamma's  arms, 
and  we  were  all  happy,  though  everybody  was 
crying. 

Suddenly  I  thought  of  Scar.  He  was  not  with 
us ;  but  I  heard  a  strange  spattering  noise,  and 
looking  hastily  around,  I  saw  the  dear  dog  fight- 
ing blindly  against  the  waves  many  yards  away 
from  the  yacht.  He  was  plunging  around  in  a 
little  circle,  making  no  headway  at  all,  while  his 
big  underjaw  scooped  in  mouthfuls  of  salt-water, 
which  I  knew  were  choking  him.  For  an  instant 
his  little  eyes  looked  straight  into  mine.  He 
made  a  sort  of  bound,  and  then  fell  back.  Oh, 
poor  dear  Scar !  I  was  very  weak,  too  Aveak  to 
keep  my  senses,  and  —  and  I'm  foolish  about  it 
yet,  I  suppose,  but  I  can't  tell  you  any  more  for 
a  minute  or  two.  Please  wait  a  little,  and  you 
shall  hear  the  end. 

You  must  not  think  any  the  worse  of  me  for 
fainting.  I  know  very  well  that  boys  have  no 
business  to  faint  when  they  are  nearly  grown-up 
men,  and  especially  when  they  own  a  dog  like 


OTJE    UGLY   IDOL  257 

Scar,  who  sets  them  an  example  of  pluck  and 
grit.  But  remember  how  ill  I  had  been.  And 
then  to  see  Daisy  in  such  danger,  and  my  faith- 
ful dog  lifting  himself  up  out  of  the  waves  to  say 
good-bye  to  me,  and  everybody  screaming— ex- 
cept Scar,  for  he  would  die  a  hundred  times  over 
before  crying  out  once— it  was  natural  I  should 
be  upset.     How  could  I  help  it  ? 

When  I  woke  up  I  found  I  had  gone  through 
something  worse  than  a  fainting  fit.     The  ex- 
citement had  brought  on  my  fever  again,  and 
for  many  days  I  had  been  in  a  very  bad  way. 
Mother's  face  was  the  first  thing  before  me  as  I 
opened  my  eyes.     Father  stood  close  beside  her. 
How  they  brightened  up  when  they  saw  that  I 
recognized   them!     I  was  greatly  surprised    to 
find  myself  in  my  own  room  at  home,  for  I  had 
no  idea  that  we  had  left  the  yacht  and  been  on 
shore  nearly  two  weeks.     I  had  to  work  hard  to 
collect  my  thoughts,  and  even  when  I  remem- 
bered that  awful  scene  on  the  Sound  I  could  not 
account  for  my  being  so  feeble  and  dizzy.    Mam- 
ma took  me  in  her  arms  and  papa  stroked  my 
head,  but  nothing  was  said  until  I  managed  to 
whisper  my  little  sister's  name.     Without  speak- 
ing, papa  turned  around  and  lifted   our  Daisy 
out  of  an  arm-chair,  where  she  had  been  lying 
asleep.     I  can't  tell  you  what  I  felt  at  the  sight 


258  OUE   TTGLY   IDOL 

of  that  darling  child  all  safe  and  well.  But  soon 
my  mind  took  another  turn,  and  everything  grew 
mournful  and  miserable  as  I  thought  of  the 
brave  life  that  had  been  lost  in  saving  hers. 
Papa  and  mamma  must  have  seen  the  change  in 
me,  for  they  looked  anxious  and  perplexed. 

"  My  dear,  dear  Scar,"  I  whispered  again.  I 
could  not  myself  hear  the  words  distinctly,  but 
the  moment  they  passed  my  lips  there  was  a 
rustle  on  the  carpet  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and 
instantly  after  I  felt  something  moist  and  com- 
fortable and  familiar  touching  my  hand.  Weak 
as  I  was,  I  pulled  myself  up  on  the  pillow,  and 
— oil !  joyful  sight ! — there  was  Scar,  bouncing  up 
and  down,  thumping  the  floor  in  his  lovely,  awk- 
ward style,  and  giving  me  his  word  as  a  dog  of 
honor  that  he  had  never  in  his  life  been  so  hap- 
py as  he  was  that  moment.  He  couldn't  have 
been  happier  than  I,  bless  him !  though  he  had 
the  advantage  of  me  in  being  able  to  make  more 
noise  about  it. 

It  was  Uncle  Richard  I  had  to  thank  for  res- 
cuing Scar.  While  all  was  in  confusion  on 
board  the  yacht,  Uncle  Richard  saw  what  had 
occurred,  and  without  stopping  even  to  take  off 
his  spectacles,  he  jumped  into  the  water,  caught 
the  dog,  and  held  him  up  until  the  watchman 
who  couldn't  swim  went  out  in  the  boat  once 


OUR   UGLY    IDOL  259 

more.  On  this  occasion  he  was  made  to  under- 
stand that  he  mustn't  leave  anybody  behind. 
Uncle  Richard  always  was  my  favorite,  and  if 
he  didn't  know  it  before,  he  knew  it  the  next 
time  he  came  to  see  me. 

"  It's  all  right,  Arty,"  he  said.  "  Battered  old 
veterans  like  Scar  and  myself  are  bound  to  help 
one  another.  He  would  like  nothing  better 
than  to  do  me  an  equally  good  turn  in  his  own 
fashion." 

It  was  Uncle  Richard,  too,  who  gave  Scar  the 
medal  that  hangs  from  his  collar.  It  is  a  small 
copy  of  the  medal  which  Congress  gave  my  uncle 
for  gallantry  during  the  war.  When  a  dog  can 
wear  such  a  decoration  as  that,  and  has  the  re- 
spect of  a  Union  brigadier-general,  and  the  love 
and  gratitude  of  a  family  like  ours,  he  need  not 
be  envious  of  other  dogs'  beauty.  That's  what 
I  say,  and  so  says  Scar. 


TRY  AGAIN  TRESCOTT'S  WAGER 
a  ffouttb  of  5ulg  BDventure 


It  is  the  meanest  thing  that  ever  was  done !" 
exclaimed  an  excited  youngster  about  ten  years 
old,  who  stood  surrounded  by  a  disconsolate 
group  in  the  playground  of  Mr  Brace's  school. 

"  So  it  is !"  cried  another,  in  still  greater  agita- 
tion. "  Nobody  but  Jim  Potter  would  play  such 
a  trick." 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?"  demanded  a  third. 
" Can't  we  get  somebody  to  help  us?" 

No  one  was  ready  with  a  reply,  and  the  lads 
looked  ruefully  at  one  another  in  silence,  until 
their  attention  was  attracted  by  the  approach  of 
an  older  boy,  who  came  running  down  the  steps 
of  the  school-house,  in  which  he  had  been  de- 
tained later  than  the  others. 

"  Here's  Try  Again  Trescott,"  shouted  the  lit- 


TRY   AGAIN   TEESCOTT  S    WAGER  261 

tie  complainant  who  had  first  spoken.  "  Let  us 
tell  him  about  it." 

"  He'll  only  laugh  at  us,"  said  the  youngest  of 
the  party. 

"Who  cares  for  that?  He  doesn't  like  Jim 
Potter,  and  I  know  he  will  do  something.  You 
see  if  he  won't.  I  say,  wait  a  minute,  Try  Again 
Trescott !" 

Charles  Trescott  was  his  proper  name,  but  all  his 
comrades,  and,  in  fact,  everybody  who  knew  him, 
called  him  Try  Again  Trescott,  in  consequence  of 
a  peculiar  habit  which  distinguished  him  among 
the  juvenile  populace  of  New  Milford,  where  he 
was  attending  school  during  the  summer.  He 
did  not  belong  to  that  pleasant  Connecticut  vil- 
lage, but  had  been  sent  thither  from  New  York 
to  live  and  study  during  the  absence  of  his  par- 
ents in  Europe.  Most  of  his  associates  thought 
him  a  good  sort  of  fellow,  though  in  the  early 
dajrs  of  his  residence  he  was  held  in  rather  low 
esteem  on  account  of  his  complete  ignorance  of 
the  rural  sports  and  pastimes  in  which  the  young- 
people  of  that  region  chiefly  delighted.  He  could 
neither  fish  nor  swim,  knew  nothing  of  the  man- 
agement of  a  boat,  and  had  never  mounted  a 
horse  in  his  life.  The  diversions  of  woods  and 
fields  and  hills  were  all  strange  to  him.  Of  the 
higher  enjoyments  of  streams  and  lakes  he  was 


262  TRY   AGAIN   TEESCOTT  S   WAGEE 

wholly  incapable.  For  a  time  it  really  did  seem 
that  he  was  not  good  for  much  of  anything 
which  country  boys  care  for. 

But  this  lasted  only  a  little  while.  Those  who 
made  fun  of  his  awkwardness,  and  jeered  at  his 
efforts  to  become  familiar  with  out-door  exercises, 
presently  found  that  he  had  resolved  to  partici- 
pate sooner  or  later  in  every  one  of  the  local 
amusements.  He  was  not  very  quick  to  learn, 
but  his  perseverance  and  determination  carried 
him  through  difficulties  which  nobody  imagined 
he  could  conquer  alone.  "Whenever  he  failed  in 
any  trial — and  he  failed  a  great  many  times — he 
took  his  discomfiture  good-naturedly,  and  simply 
said  he  would  "  try  again."  His  first  attempt  to 
keep  himself  afloat  in  the  Housatonic  River  was 
a  dismal  exhibition.  He  went  to  the  bottom  like 
a  lump  of  lead,  and  swallowed  so  much  water 
that  he  declared  he  did  not  expect  to  be  thirsty 
again  for  a  month.  But  he  "  tried  again,"  morn- 
ing and  evening,  practising  all  alone  in  the  little 
Mystic,  a  shallow  branch  of  the  Housatonic,  and 
Jong  before  the  other  boys  supposed  he  had 
learned  enough  to  keep  his  head  above  the 
waves,  he  plunged  in  among  them  one  day,  and 
astonished  them  by  offering  to  race  with  Jim 
Potter,  who  was  the  youthful  champion  of  the 
town  in  more   than   one  line   of  achievement. 


TRY   AGAIN   TRESCOTT  S   WAGER  263 

Trescott  was  beaten  badly,  and  everybody  jeered 
at  his  audacity  in  matching  himself  against  so 
redoubtable  an  opponent.  He  acknowledged  the 
defeat  becomingly,  but  intimated  that  it  would 
do  no  harm  to  try  again ;  and  a  fortnight  later 
he  had  the  satisfaction  of  distancing  Jim  Potter 
by  three  lengths,  in  a  turn  around  the  half- 
sunken  log  which  marked  the  usual  swimming 
course. 

By  carrying  the  same  methods  into  his  studies, 
he  won  the  good-will  of  his  teacher  and  a  high 
place  in  his  class,  although  he  never  seemed  to 
accomplish  any  particular  thing  with  especial 
skill  or  startling  brilliancy.  His  schoolmates 
could  not  understand  how  he  managed  to  rise 
above  most  of  them,  when  it  was  evident  that 
half  a  dozen  or  more  were  at  least  quite  as  clever 
as  he.  Jim  Potter  said,  contemptuously,  that 
Trescott  had  "  a  sneaking  way  of  getting  ahead." 
But  Jim  Potter  was  far  from  popular,  and  his 
bad  opinion  was  not  generally  shared,  notwith- 
standing that  he  tried  in  every  way  he  could 
think  of  to  create  an  ill-feeling  against  the  city 
boy.  Yery  few  could  be  brought  to  believe  there 
was  anything  "  sneaking  "  in  Charley  Trescott's 
way  of  gradually  mastering  Potter  at  his  own 
games.  Even  at  marbles,  in  which  the  village 
leader's  expertness  was  held  to  be  almost  super- 


264  TRY    AGAIN   TRESCOTT  S   WAGER 

human,  the  new-comer  acquired  such  prowess 
that  he  became  the  possessor  of  the  entire  mag- 
nificent collection  which  his  rival  had  previously 
won  from  less  dexterous  players.  Trescott  would 
not  keep  them,  however.  He  gave  the  whole  lot 
back,  saying  that  he  could  get  all  the  marbles 
he  wanted  without  gambling;  and  that  some- 
body had  told  him  gambling  was  poor  business 
for  a  boy  to  take  hold  of.  Then  Jim  Potter 
scoffed  at  Trescott  worse  than  ever,  and  pro- 
claimed his  conviction  that  such  a  prig  ought  to 
be  roundly  dealt  with  for  setting  himself  up  as  a 
censor  of  the  juvenile  society  of  New  Milford. 

It  was  certain  that  Potter's  notions  with  re- 
gard to  gambling  were  not  at  all  disturbed  by 
his  competitor's  criticism,  for  he  continued  the 
practice  with  the  same  diligence  as  before,  and 
with  even  greater  success.  Having  won  all  the 
available  marbles  of  the  community,  he  went  on 
persuading  his  victims  to  stake  other  articles  of 
property,  and  in  the  course  of  time  contrived  to 
accumulate  a  veritable  museum  of  fish-hooks, 
jack-knives,  loadstones,  burning-glasses,  and  simi- 
lar treasures.  Most  of  these  spoils  had  been 
gathered  in  from  boys  much  younger  than  him- 
self, who,  having  an  accurate  knowledge  of  Pot- 
ter's superior  strength  and  lively  temper,  did  not 
venture  to  make  open  protest,  and  had  to  con- 


TRY   AGAIN"   TRESC0TT  S   "WAGER  265 

tent  themselves  with  looking  glum  and  exchang- 
ing doleful  confidences. 

But  within  the  past  fortnight  Potter  had  pro- 
ceeded to  extremities  which  roused  the  most 
timid  to  rebellion.  Fourth  of  July  was  near  at 
hand,  and  the  young  folks  had  been  busily  col- 
lecting materials  for  an  appropriate  celebration. 
Everybody  had  at  least  something  ready  with 
which  to  make  patriotic  noises  and  blazes  on  the 
glorious  anniversary,  and  a  few  fortunate  indi- 
viduals were  so  liberally  provided  as  to  excite 
very  unwholesome  feelings  of  envy  in  the  minds 
of  their  less-favored  companions.  Then  it  was 
that  Jim  Potter  began  to  propose  playing  mar- 
bles for  choice  fireworks,  craftily  offering  odds, 
Avhich  he  pretended  would  equalize  the  chances 
between  himself  and  those  whose  fingers  were 
not  so  nimble  as  his  own.  The  result  was  that 
two  days  before  the  jubilee  he  had  become  al- 
most the  sole  possessor  of  the  splendid  assort- 
ment of  crackers,  pin -wheels,  Roman  candles, 
rockets,  blue-lights,  and  the  like,  which  had  pre- 
viously been  distributed  widely  among  the  youth- 
ful inhabitants  of  the  town. 

This  was  not  all,  though  it  was  hard  enough, 
and  perhaps  the  worst  to  bear.  A  travelling 
show-man  had  come  to  the  village  on  the  1st  of 
July  with  a  sleight-of-hand  exhibition,  to  which 


266  TRY   AGAIN   TEESC0TT  S    WAGEE 

he  offered  admission  at  a  very  low  price  to  all 
the  boys  of  Mr.  Brace's  school.  Many  had  availed 
themselves  of  this  privilege ;  but  that  greedy  Jim 
Potter  had  actually  managed,  by  his  usual  meth- 
ods, to  get  hold  of  the  greater  number  of  the 
tickets,  which  he  straightway  disposed  of  to  a 
body  of  his  personal  followers.  This  select  party 
had  attended  the  first  performance  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  2d,  and  through  the  greater  part  of 
the  following  day  had  been  so  wildly  extrava- 
gant in  expressing  admiration  that  the  poor  little 
fellows  who  had  foolishly  thrown  away  their 
chances  were  driven  into  a  frenzy  of  irritation 
and  disappointment.  It  was  to  discuss  their  woes, 
and,  if  possible,  to  devise  means  of  redress,  that 
the  small  committee  had  assembled  in  the  man- 
ner set  forth  at  the  beginning  of  this  story. 


II 

Tet  Again  Teescott  listened  to  their  lamenta- 
tions, and  was  sorry  for  them,  yet  he  did  not  see 
his  way  clear  to  doing  anything  for  their  relief. 
He  had,  stored  away  at  home,  a  first-class  lot  of 
fireworks  —  finer,  indeed,  than  that  which  Jim 
Potter  had  accumulated  by  his  knavish  tricks — 


TRY    AGAIN    TRESCOTT  S   WAGER  267 

which  had  been  sent  him  as  a  present  by  an 
uncle  in  JSTew  York.  Possibly  the  unhappy  suf- 
ferers thought  he  would  generously  offer  to  share 
with  them  some  portion  of  his  rich  abundance. 
The  impulse  to  do  so  was  not  wanting,  but  it 
was  hard  for  him,  as  it  would  have  been  hard  for 
any  boy,  to  make  up  his  mind  to  such  a  sacrifice 
at  such  a  time.  It  was  not  only  these  half-dozen 
who  had  been  fleeced,  but  pretty  nearly  the 
whole  school,  and  if  he  once  began  giving  away, 
there  was  no  telling  where  he  could  stop.  While 
he  was  rapidly  considering  the  matter,  loud  voices 
were  heard  in  the  street,  and  a  minute  after,  Jim 
Potter,  the  originator  of  the  trouble,  came  pranc- 
ing in  with  two  or  three  of  his  chums,  chattering 
eagerly  about  the  wonderful  feats  they  had  wit- 
nessed the  night  before. 

"  Try  Again  Trescott  thinks  he  knows  every- 
thing," cried  Potter,  "  because  he  comes  from 
New  York,  but  I  bet  he  never  saw  such  a  show 
as  this." 

"  I  wouldn't  care  to  see  it  in  the  way  you  did," 
answered  Trescott,  quietly. 

"  The  man  put  an  apple  on  another  man's 
hand,"  continued  Potter,  paying  no  attention  to 
Trescott's  remark,  "  and  took  a  big,  sharp,  heavy 
sword,  and  swung  it  round  in  the  air,  and  cut 
right  through  the  apple,  whiz ! — cut  it  in  halves 


268  TRY   AGAIN   TRESCOTT  S    WAGER 

—  without  touching  the  other  fellow's  hand. 
Makes  your  eyes  wink  to  think  of  it." 

"  Was  he  frightened  V  asked  one  of  the  small 
lads,  quite  carried  away  by  the  glowing  descrip- 
tion. 

"  Who  ?  The  other  fellow  %  I  guess  not !  The 
man  offered  to  do  it  to  any  of  us.  Looked 
straight  at  me,  too." 

"  Did  you  try  it  ?"  demanded  the  little  ques- 
tioner, breathlessly. 

"  Try  it  ?"  echoed  Potter,  scornfully.  "  What 
are  you  talking  about  ?" 

"Why  not?"  said  Trescott. 

"  Oh  yes.  Why  not  ?  Think  I  want  to  have 
my  hand  cut  off  ?" 

"  He  wouldn't  ask  you,"  Trescott  replied,  "  if 
he  wasn't  sure  he  could  do  it  without  hurting 
you." 

"  Get  out !  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  would 
let  him  ?" 

"  I  don't  know ;  perhaps  I  would." 

"  Bet  you  a  set  of  jack-stones  you  wouldn't !" 
exclaimed  Potter,  whose  thoughts  were  always 
running  on  his  favorite  occupation. 

"  I  don't  bet  very  often,  Jim  Potter,  but  I 
don't  believe  there  was  anything  to  be  scared  at." 

"Oh,  of  course,  you  know  all  about  it.  I  sup- 
pose you  think  you  could  do  the  trick  yourself." 


TRY   AGAIN    TRESCOTT  S    WAGER  269 

"  I  suppose  anybody  could  do  it  if  he  learned 
how." 

"  Bet  you  a  pickled  lime  you  couldn't." 

Trescott  did  not  seem  disposed  to  continue  the 
conversation,  but  Potter  had  no  notion  of  letting 
it  drop. 

"  Bet  you  a  box  of  fire-crackers  you  couldn't," 
he  persisted. 

Trescott  made  no  response. 

"Bet  you  two  boxes  of  fire-crackers  and  six 
Roman  candles  you  can't  knock  an  apple  off  my 
hand  with  a  stick  that  way,  and  not  touch  me." 

Again  Trescott  was  silent. 

"  Bet  you  half  my  lot  of  fireworks  against  half 
of  yours." 

The  younger  boys  had  listened  without  utter- 
ing a  word  up  to  this  point,  but  now  one  of  them 
broke  in : 

"  Oh,  do  it,  Try  Again  Trescott,"  he  cried ;  "do 
it,  and  give  us  the  fireworks.  You  won't  want 
them ;  you  have  enough." 

Trescott  smiled,  and  shook  his  head. 

"  Bet  you  the  whole  of  my  fireworks  against 
yours,"  shouted  Potter,  his  face  red  with  fierce 
excitement. 

Raising  his  head,  Trescott  looked  the  plunderer 
squarely  in  the  eyes  for  a  moment,  and  then  said, 
slowly,  "  I'll  take  that  bet,  Jim  Potter." 


"  'i'll  take  that  BET,  JIM  potter'" 

His  manner  was  so  serious  and  earnest  that, 
while  the  little  lads  cheered  and  screamed  tu- 
multuously,  Potter  drew  back  a  step  as  if  in 
doubt  as  to  the  wisdom  of  his  proposal.  But 
he  soon  rallied,  and  began  to  name  his  condi- 
tions. 

"  No  fooling  with  swords,"  he  said ;  "  I  won't 
stand  that.  You've  got  to  take  a  stick  and 
swing  it  round  with  all  your  might,  and  knock 


TKY    AGAIN   TEESCOTt's    WAGER.  271 

an  apple  off  my  right  hand  without  touching  me. 
I'll  find  the  apple." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Trescott,  "  and  you'll  see  that 
it's  a  small  one.  I'll  find  the  stick,  and  I'll  see 
that  it's  a  big  one." 

"  That  won't  do  you  any  good,"  sneered  Pot- 
ter, putting  on  a  bold  face,  though  he  was  more 
than  a  littje  daunted  by  his  opponent's  confi- 
dence. "  But,  hold  on ;  you've  never  tried  this 
trick  ?" 

"  I  never  heard  of  it  in  my  life." 

"  All  right,  then ;  you  bring  your  fireworks, 
and  I'll  bring  mine.  We'll  settle  it  any  time  you 
like." 

"  To-morrow  morning,  then,"  said  Trescott,  "  at 
eight  o'clock,  here  in  this  playground." 


Ill 

The  news  of  the  wager  and  the  expected  con- 
test flew  around  like  the  flash  of  a  catherine- 
wheel.  Trescott's  consent  to  take  part  in  one  of 
Potter's  questionable  games  was  a  surprise  to  the 
New  Milford  boys,  for  his  reluctance  to  engage 
in  anything  that  looked  like  gambling  was  well 
known.    It  was  observed,  however,  that  he  called 


272  TKY   AGAIN   TKESCOTT  S   WAGER 

on  the  evening  of  the  3d  at  the  house  of  his 
teacher,  kind  old  Mr.  Brace,  remaining  there 
about  half  an  hour,  and  that  when  he  came  out 
he  was  in  the  liveliest  spirits  and  the  best  of 
humors.  Was  it  possible  that  he  had  told  Mr. 
Brace  the  whole  story,  and  obtained  his  sanc- 
tion to  the  proceedings  ?  This,  however,  was  put 
aside  as  a  minor  consideration.  The  interest  and 
curiosity  of  the  youthful  community  were  fixed 
exclusively  upon  the  coming  event. 

At  eight  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  Fourth 
a  great  crowd  was  collected  in  the  playground. 
Trescott  was  one  of  the  first  to  arrive  with  a 
bundle,  or,  rather,  a  set  of  bundles,  so  large  that 
it  seemed  impossible  for  Potter  to  produce  a  dis- 
play of  equal  value.  It  was  indeed  evident  when 
he  came  upon  the  scene  that  his  ill-gotten  store 
was  not  to  be  compared  with  that  of  his  antago- 
nist, and  some  of  the  boys  pointed  this  out,  sug- 
gesting that  the  stakes  were  not  fairly  propor- 
tioned. But  Potter  insisted  that  the  terms  of 
the  bet  had  been  plainly  understood,  and  that 
each  combatant  was  to  risk  the  total  amount  of 
his  combustible  possessions. 

"  All  right,"  said  Trescott.  "  He  shall  have  it 
his  own  way.  Let  us  get  through  with  it  as 
soon  as  we  can." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  been  practising  all  night 


TEY   AGAIN    TEESCOTT  S    WAGEB  273 

long,"  grumbled  Potter,  with  a  sniff  of  affected 
disdain. 

"  I  never  took  the  stick  in  my  hand  till  half  an 
hour  ago,"  Trescott  said  to  his  own  friends,  rather 
than  in  response  to  his  adversary. 

"  Bet  you  ten  fish-hooks  you  did !"  cried  Pot- 
ter, who  lost  no  chance  of  repeating  his  inva- 
riable proposition. 

The  preparations  were  promptly  made.  Pot- 
ter produced  from  his  pocket  the  tiniest  of  crab- 
apples,  at  which  there  was  a  shout  of  derision. 

"  It's  an  apple,  anyway,"  asserted  the  village 
gambler.  "I  have  a  right  to  choose  my  own 
kind." 

"  Let  him  do  as  he  likes ;  a  small  apple  suits 
me  best,"  said  Trescott,  to  everybody's  amaze- 
ment, and  somewhat  to  the  consternation  of 
Potter  and  his  party,  all  of  whom  were  startled, 
and  their  leader  especially,  by  this  cool  and  un- 
looked-for announcement. 

Bat  there  was  no  possibility  of  stopping  the 
affair  at  this  point.  Potter  stretched  out  his 
hand,  and  the  withered  little  crab-apple  was  de- 
posited on  the  palm.  The  New  York  lad  flour- 
ished his  weapon  in  the  air.  It  was  a  stout 
walking-stick,  with  a  big  curved  handle,  and 
the  staring  spectators  noticed,  with  considerable 
wonder,  that  Trescott  held  it  by  the  ferrule  end. 


274  TRY    AGAIN    TRESCOTT  S    WAGER 

Thrice  he  whirled  it  around  his  head,  and  then 
the  stroke  was  given.  "Was  the  apple  touched ? 
Not  by  the  cane,  at  any  rate.  The  heavy  han- 
dle crashed  against  Jim  Potter's  knuckles  with  a 
thwack  that  might  have  been  heard  at  each  ex- 
tremity of  the  village,  and  been  mistaken  for  the 
report  of  a  giant  torpedo.  The  apple  dropped 
to  the  ground,  while  he  who  held  it  danced  and 
howled  and  blew  upon  his  fingers  in  a  frenzy  of 
pain  and  rage.  The  greater  number  of  the  wit- 
nesses were  delighted  with  the  result  of  the  ex- 
periment so  far  as  its  immediate  effect  upon  Pot- 
ter was  concerned,  and  the  little  boys  threw 
themselves  down  and  rolled  about  in  ecstasies. 
For  the  moment  they  thought  only  of  the  pun- 
ishment of  their  persecutor,  and  gave  no  heed  to 
after  consequences. 

A  minute  passed  before  the  sufferer  could  con- 
trol his  voice  and  speak  coherently.  Then  he 
marched  up  to  Trescott  and  shook  his  injured 
fist  at  him. 

"  I'll  pay  you  for  this  some  day,"  he  screamed ; 
"  but,  first  of  all,  I'll  take  those  fine  fireworks  of 
yours.     They  belong  to  me  now." 

The  sounds  of  acclamation  suddenly  ceased. 
The  transitory  joy  awakened  by  the  spectacle  of 
the  public  enemy's  anguish  gave  way  to  a  deep 
despondency.     At  the  thought  that  their  last 


TRY    AGAIN   TRESCOTT S   WAGEE  275 

hope  of  restitution  was  gone,  the  youngsters 
wailed  aloud.  In  the  midst  of  general  confusion, 
Potter,  with  two  or  three  followers,  advanced  to 
seize  the  coveted  prizes ;  but  as  they  were  about 
to  lay  hands  on  them,  they  were  checked  by 
Trescott,  who  sprang  forward,  brandishing  his 
cane  with  an  air  of  defiance,  before  which  the 
spoilers  instinctively  fell  back. 

"Wait,  there,  Jim  Potter!"  he  called  out,  in 
ringing  tones.  "I  haven't  finished  yet.  I've 
only  just  begun.  I  never  said  I  could  do  it  the 
first  time.  You  know  my  name.  I'm  Try  Again 
Trescott !" 

The  boys  stood  motionless,  gazing  in  stupefac- 
tion at  one  another,  until  the  full  meaning  of  the 
situation  burst  upon  them.  When  the  conviction 
spread  that  Potter  had  been  foiled  and  outwitted, 
a  cry  of  exultation  arose  the  like  of  which  had 
seldom  been  heard  in  New  Milford  on  any  Fourth 
of  July  since  the  nation  was  born.  For  a  brief 
instant  the  baffled  depredator  thought  of  at- 
tempting to  secure  by  force  the  booty  which  had 
escaped  from  his  clutch,  but  a  glance  showed 
him  that  the  boys  were  in  no  temper  to  be  fur- 
ther trifled  with,  and  he  turned  upon  Trescott 
with  malignant  spite. 

"  Keep  your  fireworks,  you  cheat !"  he  yelled. 
"  Give  me  my  lot,  if  you  don't  mean  to  steal  them." 


276  TRY   AGAIN    TEESCOTT's    WAGER 

"  I'm  not  a  cheat  nor  a  thief,"  replied  Trescott. 
"  You  all  know  me  pretty  well.  I  always  have 
to  try  more  than  once  before  I  can  do  anything 
I  undertake.    Hold  out  your  apple,  Jim  Potter." 

In  his  bewilderment  the  fellow  did  actually 
pick  up  the  apple  and  balance  it  on  his  hand  as 
before ;  but  when  he  saw  the  dreadful  stick  de- 
scending his  small  stock  of  pluck  vanished,  and  he 
jerked  his  arm  away  with  such  alacrity  that  the 
whole  crowd  hooted  at  him.  After  this  it  would 
have  been  useless  to  bluster.  He  looked  around 
just  once,  with  a  black  and  scowling  face,  and 
then  stole  away,  not  a  single  one  of  even  his  own 
set  accompanying  him.  It  was  a  short  and  easy 
job  to  redistribute  the  recovered  fireworks  among 
the  original  owners.  A  few  had  been  used  on 
the  previous  evening,  but  these  were  made  good 
by  Trescott  from  his  own  ample  supply,  with  a 
cheerfulness  that  made  him,  at  least  for  the  time, 
the  most  popular  boy  in  that  region.  Independ- 
ence Day  ran  through  its  course  with  more  than 
common  merriment,  and  it  was  long  before  the 
lads  of  New  Milford  ceased  to  remember  their 
debt  of  gratitude  to  the  quick  wit  and  ready 
resolution  of  Try  Again  Trescott. 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED 


ET  a  bright  autumn  afternoon  in 
the  year  1863,  a  pleasant-faced 
and  dark-complexioned  young 
gentleman  was  walking  rapid- 
ly through  the  principal  ave- 
nue of  a  small  city  in  western 
New  York.     He  was  hurrying 
to  catch  a  railway  train,  but  as 
he  passed  the  open  door  of  a  pub- 
lic hall  he  saw  something  which 
caused  him  to  stop  abruptly.    A 
pretty  child,  apparently-  about 
eight  years  old,  was  standing  at 
the  entrance  looking  anxiously  up  and  down  the 
street,  and  silently  crying. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  little  one  ?"  asked  the 
gentleman,  going  up  the  steps  towards  her. 


278  A   FKIEND   IN   NEED 

She  turned  lier  tearful  eyes  upon  him,  and 
made  an  effort  to  control  her  grief. 

"Bessie  doesn't  come,"  she  answered,  in  a 
trembling  voice. 

"  That  is  too  bad,"  said  the  stranger.  "  Is 
Bessie  ill  ?" 

"  I  don't  know ;  she  doesn't  come,  and  we're 
'fraid  the  concert  will  be  spoiled." 

"  Bat  you  mustn't  spoil  your  rosy  cheeks  for 
that,  my  dear.  Are  you  all  alone  ?"  He  spoke 
with  a  slight  foreign  accent,  but  in  so  gentle  and 
kindly  a  tone  that  the  child's  good-will  was  im- 
mediately won.  She  was  about  to  reply,  when 
two  or  three  older  girls  came  out  from  the  hall, 
and  by  involuntary  exclamations  expressed  their 
surprise  at  finding  her  in  conversation  with  an 
unknown  person. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  said,  nodding  his  head  and 
smiling.  ".I  am  trying  to  console  this  little  lady. 
I  can't  bear  to  see  young  people  cry." 

"  It  is  about  Bessie,"  explained  the  oldest 
of  the  children,  whose  age  might  have  been 
eleven  or  twelve.  "  She  has  disappointed  us 
terribly." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  about  it  ?"  inquired  the  gen- 
tleman, putting  on  an  appearace  of  great  interest. 
In  fact,  he  was  interested.  His  fondness  for  lit- 
tle folks  was  well  known  to  many  persons  and 


A   FKIEND   IN   NEED  279 

in  many  places,  and  he  never  seemed  better  con- 
tented than  in  their  company. 

"  We  are  going  to  give  a  concert,"  said  the 
leader  of  the  party,  after  a  moment's  hesitation, 
"for  the  Sanitary  Commission.  At  least,  we 
were  going  to.  But  we  can't  do  without  Bessie, 
and  this  is  our  last  rehearsal." 

"Perhaps  she  is  sick.  Can't  you  rehearse 
again  ?" 

"  Oh  no ;  the  concert  is  for  to-night.  Bessie 
plays  the  second  part  in  the  overture  and  all  the 
other  piano  pieces." 

"  May  I  ask  what  the  overture  is  ?" 

"  The  '  Crown  Diamonds.'  It's  very  difficult. 
Four  of  us  play  it  on  two  pianos." 

"  I  understand.  Let  us  step  into  the  vestibule ; 
perhaps  I  may  suggest  something.  I  like  music 
very  much." 

They  all  went  in,  out  of  sight  of  persons  pass- 
ing by.  The  girls  were  deeply  absorbed  in  their 
trouble,  and  gave  no  thought  to  the  circumstance 
that  they  were  admitting  to  their  confidence  an  in- 
dividual whom  none  of  them  had  ever  before  seen. 

"  What  else  have  you  on  your  programme  ?" 
he  asked. 

"  The  Pesther  Waltzes,  and  a  selection  from 
1  Trovatore,'  and  the  '  Wedding  March.'  That's 
the  hardest  of  all." 


280  A    FEIEND   IN    NEED 

"  And  who  are  the  performers  ?" 

"  I  play  the  first  part,  Bessie  Thornton  the 
second,  Charlie  Jackson  the  third,  and  Winnie 
Jackson  here  the  fourth." 

"  I'm  going  to  try,  Florence,"  said  the  one  who 
was  indicated  as  Winnie  Jackson,  with  becoming 
modesty. 

"  Then  Charlie  is  to  play  a  piece  by  himself. 
He's  practising  it  now  inside." 

"  And  I  shall  speak  '  'Celsior,'  sha'n't  I,  Flor- 
ence ?"  interposed  the  little  creature  whose  grief 
had  first  attracted  the  stranger's  notice.  She 
had  dried  her  eyes,  and  was  wholly  taken  up 
with  the  new-comer. 

"Yes,  Jennie  dear  — l JSbcelsior,'"  responded 
Florence.  "  You  see,  sir,  we  have  been  at  work 
for  three  weeks.  We  all  belong  to  the  same 
school,  and  it's  entirely  our  own  idea.  Mr.  Bush 
lets  us  have  the  hall  for  nothing,  and  we  hope 
to  make  ever  so  much  money — twenty -five  dol- 
lars, I  guess.  The  tickets  are  a  quarter  of  a  dol- 
lar, and  all  our  friends  have  promised  to  attend. 
But,  oh  dear!  what  am  1  saying?  If  Bessie 
doesn't  come  everything  will  go  wrong." 

The  incident  I  am  relating  took  place  during 
the  heat  of  the  great  Civil  War,  when  people  of 
every  age  all  over  the  Northern  States  were  do- 
ing their  utmost  to  lessen  the  hardships  of  the 


A   FBIEND   IN   NEED  281 

Union  soldiers.  The  Sanitary  Commission  was 
a  favorite  object  of  charity,  and  scarcely  a  day 
passed  without  the  announcement  of  some  pub- 
lic entertainment,  large  or  small,  by  professional 
or  amateur  performers  for  the  benefit  of  this  im- 
portant organization. 

"While  the  band  of  youthful  patriots  stood  la- 
menting the  danger  that  threatened  their  proj- 
ect, a  lad  of  ten  years  came  running  in  from  the 
sidewalk. 

"  It's  no  use,  girls,"  he  cried.  "  Bessie  has  an 
awful  cold  and  fever,  and  her  mother  won't  let 
her  stir  out.  I  don't  believe  she'll  be  able  to 
come  this  evening,  either." 

A  wail  of  despair  broke  from  the  despondent 
group. 

"But  there's  a  chance  that  she  can  join  you 
to-night,"  said  the  sympathizing  gentleman. 

"  That  wouldn't  do  us  any  good,"  moaned  Mis- 
tress Florence.  "  We  shouldn't  dare  to  play  with- 
out another  rehearsal,  and  we  can't  rehearse 
without  Bessie." 

"  Why  not  ?"  urged  the  friend  in  need.  "  Come, 
I  see  that  I  have  lost  my  train.  I  will  take  Bes- 
sie's part  for  you  this  afternoon,  at  any  rate." 

"  Can  you  ?"  exclaimed  Florence,  much  aston- 
ished at  this  unexpected  proposition. 

"  Why,  certainly  ;  I  have  nothing  to  do." 


282  A   FEIEND   IN    NEED 

"  But — I  mean — "  The  little  girl  became  em- 
barrassed, and  could  not  end  the  sentence. 

"  She  means,"  said  Winnie  Jackson,  coming  to 
her  companion's  aid — -"she  means  —  please  ex- 
cuse us,  but  Bessie  is  a  very  line  player ;  the  best 
we  have,  next  to  Florence." 

"  Oh,  well,  give  me  a  trial,"  replied  the  stran- 
ger, laughing.  "  I  used  to  play  pretty  well  when 
I  was  your  age." 

"  I'm  sorry  if  I  was  rude ;  pray  forgive  me," 
Florence  begged.  "  It  will  be  so  kind  if  you  can 
— if  you  will  help  us." 

"  Of  course  I  will." 

"  Hooray  !  I  call  that  splendid  !"  shouted  the 
youngster  who  had  brought  the  bad  tidings  from 
Bessie  Thornton's  house.  "  Just  come  out  here, 
Charlie ;  a  gentleman  has  volunteered  to  take 
Bessie's  place  at  rehearsal.  Will  you  tell  me 
your  name,  sir  ?" 

"  You  may  call  me  Mr.  Moreau." 

A  few  minutes  later  Mr.  Moreau  was  seated  at 
Florence's  left  side,  dutifully  sustaining  his  part 
in  an  eight-hand  arrangement  of  Auber's  lively 
overture.  When  this  had  been  gone  throus-h 
twice,  the  tiny  maid  Jennie,  who  had  watched 
the  performance  with  critical  solemnity,  deliv- 
ered her  mind  to  the  new  member  of  the  quartet 
thus : 


-^leStnR^fld 


a  few  minutes   later  mr.  moreau  was  seated  at 
Florence's  left  side  " 


A    FRIEND   IN   NEED  283 

"Yery  nice.  You  do  play  'most  as  well  as 
Bessie.     Doesn't  lie,  Flo  ?" 

"He  plays  better,  dear,"  answered  Florence. 
"  I  think,"  she  added,  timidly,  "  that  he  isn't  do- 
ing all  he  can.  I'm  not  sure,  but  it  seems  as  if 
he  must  know  more  than  any  of  us." 

"  'Cept  you,  Flo,"  said  the  small  judge,  with 
decisive  emphasis. 

The  other  pieces  were  then  taken  up,  and  one 
or  two  passages  which  puzzled  Florence's  fingers 
in  the  "  "Wedding  March  "  were  modified  by  Mr. 
Moreau  so  adroitly  that  she  was  able,  after  fol- 
lowing his  advice,  to  give  all  the  required  effect 
without  getting  the  notes  confused  or  disturbing 
the  time. 

When  the  rehearsal  was  about  half  over,  the 
inner  door  of  the  hall  leading  from  the  vestibule 
was  softly  pushed  open,  and  a  lady  entered,  so 
quietly  that  her  presence  was  not  remarked  by 
the  busy  pianists.  She  took  a  few  steps  towards 
the  stage,  stopped  suddenly  on  perceiving  the  ad- 
dition to  the  expected  number  of  its  occupants, 
and  stood  as  if  overpowered  by  amazement.  Af- 
ter gazing  intently  for  some  seconds,  she  cau- 
tiously withdrew  and  went  into  the  street,  with 
a  peculiar  expression  of  wonderment  upon  her 
countenance. 

Mr.  Moreau  not  only  acted  as  Bessie's  substi- 


284  A   FKIEND   IN   NEED 

tute  in  the  instrumental  music,  but  undertook 
also  the  accompaniment  to  a  song  that  Florence 
was  to  sing.  He  complimented  her  upon  the 
freshness  and  sweetness  of  her  voice,  and  the 
good  taste  with  which  she  used  it. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Moreau,"  she  said,  simply  and  ear- 
nestly, "  I  never  sang  it  so  well  before.  Almost 
always  I  am  frightened,  but  your  beautiful  ac- 
companiment makes  me  feel  perfectly  safe  and 
sure." 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Florence,"  he  replied.  "  Peo- 
ple are  not  often  praised  so  honestly  and  sincere- 
ly as  that." 

"  I  can't  say  how  much  we  are  obliged  to  you," 
she  continued.  "If  Bessie  will  only  come  to- 
night we  can  get  through,  after  all." 

"  And  if  she  does  not  V 

"  Oh,  it  makes  me  miserable  to  think  of 
such  a  thing !  All  our  trouble  will  go  for 
nothing." 

"  And  I  can't  speak  '  'Celsior,'  "  piped  Jennie, 
disconsolately. 

"Now,  listen  to  me,  my  little  friends;  I  am 
not  going  to  do  my  work  by  halves.  I  will  stay 
in  town  and  come  here  myself,  and  if  your  inva- 
lid does  not  appear,  you  shall  have  my  services 
and  welcome." 

There  was  a  loud  outcry  of  enthusiasm  and 


A   FRIEND   IN   NEED  285 

delight,  and  happier  faces  never  were  seen  than 
those  which  were  gratefully  upturned  to  the 
good-natured  unknown. 

Just  as  they  were  about  to  separate,  the  su- 
perintendent of  the  hall,  Mr.  Bush,  came  along. 
He  gave  a  queer  start  on  seeing  Mr.  Moreau,  and 
would  have  called  out  to  him  if  he  had  not  been 
checked  by  a  hasty  signal  from  that  gentleman. 
He  waited  without  speaking  until  the  children 
had  gone,  and  then  said, 

"I  thought  you  were  on  your  way  to  New 
York  I" 

"  So  I  am,"  answered  Mr.  Moreau.  "  I  left  by 
the  three  o'clock  train.  Don't  contradict  me, 
and  don't  allow  anybody  to  make  the  mistake 
of  supposing  that  I  am  here." 

"  Just  as  you  -like,"  returned  Mr.  Bush,  chuck- 
ling.    "  No  one  shall  hear  a  word  from  me." 


II 

Florence  Lynwood  ran  home  with  her  sister 
in  high  spirits,  eager  to  relate  what  had  hap- 
pened, and  anxious  to  secure  her  mother's  ap- 
proval of  the  plan  to  be  adopted  in  case  of  Bes- 
sie Thornton's  continued  illness. 


286  A   FRIEND'   IN   NEED 

"  Mamma,"  she  cried,  "  I  have  something  ever 
so  strange  to  tell  you." 

"  I  know  a  part  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Lynwood. 
"  I  looked  in  at  the  hall  this  afternoon." 

"Then  you  saw  the  strange  gentleman?" 

"Yes,  for  a  moment.  Did  he  tell  you  his 
name  V 

"  His  name  is  Morrow,"  chirped  little  Jennie, 
who  wished  it  to  be  understood  that  she  also  had 
information  to  impart. 

"  Morrow,"  repeated  Mrs.  Lynwood.  "That  is 
singular." 

"  It  sounded  like  that,"  said  Florence.  "  I 
think  he  is  a  foreigner."  She  went  on  to  de- 
scribe him  as  well  as  she  could,  and  to  give  the 
particulars  of  his  friendly  behavior.  "  And,  mam- 
ma," she  concluded,  "  if  Bessie  stays  at  home  this 
evening,  he  is  going  to  play  her  part  in  all  the 
piano  pieces." 

"  Eeally  !"  exclaimed  her  mother,  showing 
much  more  interest  than  Florence  had  expected. 
"From  what  I  hear,  Bessie  certainly  cannot 
venture  out.  You  are  sure  this  gentleman  will 
not  disappoint  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  mamma,  he  is  too  kind  for  that." 

"  I  hope  so.  Now,  my  daughter,  you  shall  hear 
some  good  news.  You  have  reckoned  upon  get- 
ting twenty-five  dollars  for  the  Sanitary  Commis- 


A    FRIEND   IN   NEED  287 

sion.  "Well,  your  concert  shall  bring  you  at  least 
a  hundred  if  you  will  get  together  as  many  school- 
mates as  you  can  find  in  half  an  hour,  and  bring 
them  here  without  delay.  Don't  ask  me  to  ex- 
plain; I  want  to  write  as  rapidly  as  possible. 
Lose  no  time,  my  dear,  and  come  back  in  thirty 
minutes." 

Florence  was  in  ecstasy  at  the  brilliant  pros- 
pect held  out  to  her,  and  started  on  her  errand 
without  a  word  of  inquiry.  When  she  returned, 
accompanied  by  ten  or  twelve  juvenile  acquaint- 
ances, her  mother  was  ready  with  a  score  of 
notes,  which  she  now  addressed  and  handed  to 
the  children,  to  be  delivered  to  their  parents  and 
neighbors.  These  epistles  were  all  alike  in  sub- 
stance. They  briefly  stated  a  certain  fact,  and 
requested  that  the  intelligence  should  be  prompt- 
ly and  extensively  distributed.  "Within  the  fol- 
lowing hour  the  circle  of  society  in  which  Mrs. 
Lynwood  moved  was  glowing  with  an  excitement 
the  like  of  which  had  seldom  been  witnessed  in 
that  quiet  interior  city. 


288  A    FRIEND   IN   NEED 


III 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  hall  was 
crowded  with  the  largest  and  most  distinguished 
audience  ever  gathered  within  its  walls.  Mr. 
Moreau  arrived  in  good  season,  and  made  his 
way  by  a  private  passage  to  the  room  reserved 
for  the  performers,  just  as  a  final  message  from 
Bessie  Thornton's  parents  Avas  received,  express- 
ing regret  at  the  sick  girl's  positive  inability  to 
join  in  the  proceedings. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Moreau,"  said  Florence, "  what  should 
we  have  done  without  you,  and  how  shall  I  thank 
you  for  your  goodness  ?" 

"How?  Easily  enough,  my  dear  child.  By 
singing  your  pretty  song  as  well  this  evening  as 
you  did  this  afternoon." 

Precisely  at  the  appointed  hour  Master  Jack- 
son led  his  sister  to  her  place  at  the  piano  and 
seated  himself  beside  her.  They  Avere  Avarmly 
Avelcomed  ;  but  Avhen  Mr.  Moreau  appeared  Avith 
Florence  Lynwood's  hand  in  his,  the  applause 
Avas  so  overAvhelming  that  the  young  girl  Avas 
startled.  She  Avas  quick  enough  to  guess,  Iioav- 
ever,  that  there  must  be  some  stronger  cause  for 


"MASTER  JACKSON   LED  HIS   SISTER  TO   HER  PLACE" 


the  extraordinary  demonstration  than  the  mere 
entrance  of  two  or  three  school  children.  She 
glanced  shyly  at  her  escort,  but  could  see  noth- 
ing in  his  face  that  helped  to  throw  light  on  the 
situation. 

The  concert  was  a  prodigious  success  from  be- 
ginning to  end.  The  programme  was  not  very 
long,  and  was  all  over  at  an  early  hour,  notwith- 


19 


290  A    FRIEND    IN    NEED 

standing  that  everything  was  encored,  including 
Jennie's  recitation  of  "  Excelsior,"  and  Florence 
was  recalled  three  times  after  her  song.  Just  be- 
fore the  last  number  was  performed,  Mr.  Bush 
marched  upon  the  stage  and  made  a  bit  of  a 
speech.  He  said  he  was  deputed  by  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  present  to  declare  their  gratifica- 
tion at  meeting  under  such  agreeable  and  novel 
circumstances  the  eminent  artist  to  whom  they 
had  been  so  often  indebted  for  the  highest  enjoy- 
ment, and  to  express  the  hope  that  he  would  fa- 
vor them  at  the  close  of  the  entertainment  with 
an  exhibition  of  his  own  rare  skill  and  power. 
Since  he  had  done  so  much  for  the  youth  of  the 
community,  he  trusted  it  would  not  be  presump- 
tuous for  the  grown-up  citizens  to  ask  a  boon  on 
their  own  behalf. 

Mr.  Moreau,  who  had  been  listening  at  the 
side  of  the  stage,  now  came  forward,  and  was 
again  saluted  with  fervor.  As  soon  as  he  could 
be  heard  he  gracefully  acknowledged  the  greet- 
ing bestowed  upon  him,  and  frankly  avowed  the 
pleasure  it  had  given  him  to  co-operate  in  the 
worthy  entertainment  of  his  young  associates. 

"  It  was  my  fortune  to  be  born  at  the  South," 
he  said,  "  but  no  man  can  be  more  devoted  to 
the  Union  than  I,  or  more  ready  to  contribute 
his  share  in  relieving  the  suffering  of  our  sick 


A   FRIEND   IN   NEED  291 

and  wounded  soldiers.  When  I  can  do  it  in 
such  company  as  this  " — and  he  waved  his  hand 
towards  the  children  —  "I  feel  a  happiness  far 
different  from  that  which  the  commonplace  suc- 
cesses of  life  produce,  and  which  I  truly  do  not 
know  how  to  describe.  My  accidental  partici- 
pation in  this  event  will  be  one  of  my  most 
charming  recollections.  As  to  the  request  which 
you  have  made  through  Mr.  Bush,  I  should  con- 
sider it  an  honor  to  comply  without  any  condi- 
tions, if  I  were  free  to  follow  my  own  inclina- 
tion. But  I  am  here  to  support  the  exertions  of 
my  young  friends  on  behalf  of  a  noble  object, 
and  I  am  bound  on  this  occasion  to  do  nothing 
that  shall  not  add  to  the  good  result  of  their  en- 
deavor. They  have  invited  you  to  an  excellent 
concert,  and  you  have  responded  liberally.  So 
far  the  account  is  even.  I  must  see  that  it  con- 
tinues so  to  the  end.  I  shall  gladly  play  for 
you,  but  we  will,  if  you  please,  introduce  my 
music  with  a  good  old-fashioned  ceremony.  We 
will  take  up  a  special  contribution  to  the  Sani- 
tary Commission.  If  you  will  allow  me,  I  will 
go  through  the  aisle  at  the  right,  and  I  shall  ask 
my  fellow  -  artist,  Miss  Lynwood,  to  look  after 
the  left.  Here,  Miss  Florence,  take  Mr.  Bush's 
hat,  and  let  me  have  the  privilege  of  making  the 
first  deposit." 


292  A    FRIEND    IN    NEED 

He  suited  tbe  action  to  the  word,  and  draw- 
ing from  bis  pocket  a  coin  rarely  seen  in  those 
days  of  paper  currency  —  a  twenty -dollar  gold 
piece,  worth  not  less  than  forty  or  fifty  dollars 
of  the  money  in  common  use — he  held  it  up  to 
view,  probably  as  a  stimulating  example  to  the 
spectators,  and  dropped  it  into  the  superintend- 
ent's hat,  which  he  then  handed  to  Florence, 
and  sent  her  on  the  round  of  collection.  Bring:- 
ing  his  own  hat  from  the  anteroom,  he  started 
at  the  opposite  side  of  the  hall,  laughing  and 
chatting  merrily  as  he  passed  along  the  rows  of 
seats.  "  I  am  getting  on  famously,"  he  cried  at 
one  point ;  "  let  us  see  which  of  us  will  take  the 
larger  sum.  Surely  you  will  not  be  less  gener- 
ous to  one  of  your  own  daughters  than  to  a  vis- 
itor from  afar."  Soon  after  he  said,  "  I  shall  be 
astonished  if  you  do  not  make  my  hat  heavier 
than  the  young  lady's ;  this  cit}T  has  a  reputa- 
tion for  hospitality  to  sustain,  and  you  will  not 
be  so  selfish  as  to  let  a  guest  fall  behind  one  of 
your  own  citizens."  The  audience,  though  taken 
by  surprise,  was  greatly  diverted,  and  not  at  all 
slow  in  partaking  of  his  merry  humor.  There 
was  no  stinginess  for  him  to  complain  of.  When 
he  returned  to  the  stage  he  carried  with  him  a 
fraction  over  one  hundred  dollars.  He  would  not 
begin  playing  till  the  amount  was  counted  and 


A    FRIEND    IN   NEED  293 

reported.  Florence  was  even  more  successful. 
She  brought  up  close  upon  one  hundred  and 
twenty  dollars.  Then  it  was  that  she  had  that 
lucky  inspiration  which  gained  her  the  name  of 
being  the  brightest  and  quickest  girl  of  her  age 
in  town. 

"  We  are  just  alike,"  she  said.  And  as  he 
made  a  sign  of  dissent,  she  insisted :  "  Oh  yes, 
we  are.  You  had  no  right  to  put  twenty  dollars 
in  my  hat  and  nothing  in  yours.  I  shall  divide 
your  gift,  and  call  it  ten  dollars  for  me  and  ten 
for  you.  Then  we  shall  each  have  one  hundred 
and  ten." 

This  was  the  great  hit  of  the  evening  so 
far.  But  the  music  that  followed  caused  every- 
thing else  to  be  forgotten,  at  least  for  the 
time.  The  pianist  kept  on  with  unflagging  amia- 
bility and  spirit  for  more  than  half  an  hour, 
and  when  he  rose,  at  eleven  o'clock,  the  people 
were  hoarse  from  shouting  his  name.  The  chil- 
dren could  not  make  out  the  word  that  every- 
body was  crying,  and  Florence,  bending  over 
from  the  platform,  asked  her  mother  what  it 
was. 

"  Is  it  possible  you  do  not  know,  my  dear  V 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Ly nwood.  "  It  is  the  name  of  the 
greatest  of  American  pianists." 

"  Oh,  now  I  understand !     But  you  told  us," 


294  A   PATRIOTIC    PIANIST 

said  Florence,  turning  to  the  artist,  "that  your 
name  was  Moreau." 

"And  so  it  is,  my  child,"  he  answered.     "I 
am  Louis  Moreau  Gottschalk."  * 


APPENDIX 

A  PATRIOTIC  PIANIST 

The  most  celebrated  pianist  produced  by  the 
United  States  was  a  native  of  New  Orleans 
named  Gottschalk,  who  died,  while  still  quite 
young,  about  twenty-five  years  ago.  He  was  of 
French  descent,  and  as  French  was  the  language 
of  his  childhood,  he  spoke  English  with  an  ac- 
cent which  often  caused  strangers  to  mistake 
him  for  a  foreigner.  But  he  was  as  thorough 
an  American  as  ever  breathed,  and  was  conspic- 
uously faithful  to  his  country  at  a  time  when 
most  men  of  Southern  birth  acknowledged  no 
obligation  of  loyalty,  and  sought  to  destroy  the 
great  republic  by  establishing  a  separate  nation 
for  themselves. 

His  life,  like  that  of  many  distinguished  musi- 

*  See  Appendix — "A  Patriotic  Pianist." 


A   PATKIOTIC    PIANIST  295 

cians,  was  passed  chiefly  in  travelling  about  the 
world  and  giving  concerts.  His  popularity  was 
remarkable,  not  only  on  account  of  his  artistic 
gifts,  but  also  because  of  his  varied  personal  at- 
tractions. The  charm  of  his  manner  and  his  re- 
fined courtesy  won  him  hosts  of  friends  in  every 
place  which  he  visited.  But  with  all  his  gentle- 
ness of  demeanor,  he  had  an  abundance  of  manly 
spirit  and  courage,  as  those  who  presumed  upon 
his  natural  amiability  were  sure  to  learn. 

In  1862,  when  the  war  of  secession  was  at  its 
height,  his  public  engagements  carried  him  to 
Canada,  where  he  was  less  known  than  in  his 
own  land.  His  first  appearance  was  in  a  large 
city,  the  inhabitants  of  which  had  been  informed 
that  he  came  from  New  Orleans,  but  were  wholly 
unaware  of  his  strong  feeling  against  slavery  or 
his  earnest  devotion  to  the  Union.  Our  Cana- 
dian neighbors  were  not,  as  a  rule,  well  disposed 
to  the  Northern  cause.  Their  sympathy  was 
with  the  States  in  revolt,  and  they  were  not 
backward  in  proclaiming  the  fact.  The  advent 
of  the  famous  young  Southerner  seemed  to  af- 
ford them  an  unusually  fine  opportunity  of 
avowing  their  sentiments.  Taking  it  for  grant- 
ed, without  inquiry,  that  he  stood  with  the  peo- 
ple of  his  State  and  "section,"  they  made  up 
their  minds  to  pay  him  what  they  considered  a 


296  A   PATRIOTIC    PIANIST 

very  pretty  compliment,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
indulge  themselves  with  a  lively  demonstration 
of  their  fondness  for  the  Confederacy. 

The  concert  was  attended  by  an  immense  au- 
dience, and  Gottschalk  was  greeted  with  an  ar- 
dor which  somewhat  surprised  him.  He  had  no 
suspicion  that  he  was  regarded  as  a  representa- 
tive of  the  rebellion,  and  it  was  not  until  the  end 
of  the  evening  that  anything  occurred  to  en- 
lighten him.  As  he  came  forward  for  the  last 
time,  a  loud  call  for  "  Dixie  "  went  up  from  the 
multitude.  He  looked  about  in  amazement,  not 
understanding  at  first  the  meaning  of  the  cry. 
While  he  stood  irresolute,  the  demand  was  loud- 
ly repeated,  and  followed  by  a  wild  chorus  of 
acclamation  for  secessionists  in  general.  Pres- 
ently a  diversion  was  made  in  favor  of  "My 
Maryland,"  one  party  clamoring  for  that  stately 
air,  while  another  continued  to  shout  for  the 
more  hilarious  ditty. 

It  was  a  trying  position  for  the  pianist.  He 
believed  that  a  refusal  would  give  intense  irrita- 
tion at  the  moment,  and  would  probably  endan- 
ger his  entire  expedition  through  the  British 
province.  The  wayward  public  is  prodigal  of 
bounty  and  caresses  so  long  as  its  caprices  are 
humored,  but  at  the  least  sign  of  opposition,  it 
is  liable  to  turn  upon  its  idols  and  rend  them. 


A   PATRIOTIC   PIANIST  297 

It  was  no  trifling  undertaking  for  one  man  to 
defy  the  will  of  this  excited  throng.  Tet  his  re- 
solve was  taken  without  an  instant's  hesitation. 
Though  he  felt  that  by  his  own  act  he  would 
bring  his  tour  to  an  ignominious  end,  he  saw  but 
one  course  open  to  him.  He  waited  until  the  up- 
roar subsided,  and  bowing  ceremoniously,  seated 
himself  at  his  instrument.  For  a  brief  interval 
all  was  silence ;  then  his  hands  fell  upon  the 
keys ;  but  neither  "  Dixie  "  nor  "  My  Maryland  " 
came  in  response  to  his  touch.  "Hail  Colum- 
bia" was  the  strain  that  resounded  through  the 
hall  and  fell  upon  the  ears  of  the  astonished 
Canadians. 

The  tumult  that  immediately  ensued  deadened 
the  sound  of  the  music,  and  the  performer  de- 
sisted from  his  labor.  Imagining  that  he  was 
terrified  into  submission,  the  audience  signified  a 
willingness  to  give  him  another  chance.  There 
was  a  lull  in  the  storm,  and  Gottschalk,  after 
bowing  as  formally  as  before,  turned  once  more 
to  his  task.  This  time  he  chose  "  Yankee  Doo- 
dle," which  was  no  sooner  recognized  than  a 
fresh  outburst  of  disapprobation  made  his  efforts 
again  inaudible. 

"It  did  not  matter  to  me,"  he  said,  relating 
the  story  afterwards.  "  I  was  determined  to 
stay  there  all  night  if  necessary — unless  I  was 


298  A   PATRIOTIC    PIANIST 

dragged  from  the  platform — and  give  them  an 
unmistakable  Union  melody  as  often  as  I  could 
get  a  hearing.  The  only  thing  that  worried  me 
was  that  we  had  no  national  song  worthy  of  the 
name.  I  could  not  use  '  The  Star-spangled  Ban- 
ner,' which  is  a  capital  tune,  because  the  music 
is  not  American.  But  though  my  material  was 
not  first-class,  I  tried  to  make  up  for  that  by 
good  playing.  After  a  while  the  people  grew 
tired  of  raging  at  me,  and  then  they  heard  me 
at  my  best — my  very  best,  I  assure  you." 

"  And  how  did  it  end  ?"  the  pianist  was  asked. 

"  Oh,  very  unexpectedly,  and  most  happily. 
They  had  kept  ominously  still  a  long  time,  and 
I  was  wondering  what  mischief  was  in  store, 
when  a  man  with  a  big  heavy  voice  suddenly 
broke  out  laughing.  That  settled  everything. 
In  less  than  a  minute  the  whole  audience  was 
laughing,  too,  in  the  pleasantest  possible  humor. 
They  began  to  cheer  me  as  if  I  had  done  nothing 
but  what  they  wanted,  and  I  suppose  my  inde- 
pendence made  them  think  better  of  me  than  if 
I  had  yielded.  From  that  night  I  was  treated 
in  the  most  friendly  way.  While  I  remained  in 
Canada  there  was  no  indication  that  I  had  given 
offence  by  my  obstinacy,  and  pretty  soon  I  found 
that  I  was  expected  to  introduce  some  specimens 
of  genuine  Yankee  minstrelsy  at  every  concert, 


A   PATKIOTIC   PIANIST  299 

whether  the  programme  promised  them  or  not. 
I  never  objected  to  this,  of  course ;  but  it  made 
me  wretched  that  the  country  I  belonged  to  had 
no  other  rallying  songs  than  a  few  bits  of  cheap 
jig  music.  If  I  live  long  enough,  I  must  try  my 
own  hand  at  producing  a  '  national  anthem.' " 

He  did  not  live  long  enough ;  and  it  is  strange 
to  reflect  that  this  brilliant  artist,  who  from  the 
age  of  fourteen  until  his  earry  death  enjoyed  a 
renown  beyond  that  of  any  other  American  vir- 
tuoso, is  now  almost  forgotten  by  the  public.  A 
quarter  of  a  century  ago  he  was  unrivalled  in 
his  vocation,  and  the  first  of  social  favorites. 
"Wherever  he  went  he  endeared  himself  alike  to 
old  and  young,  yet  the  rising  generation  of  to- 
day scarcely  knows  his  name.  But  his  rare  and 
beautiful  compositions  will  long  be  cherished  by 
musicians.  They  have  the  glow  of  true  genius, 
and  works  thus  inspired  possess  a  lasting  claim 
to  respectful  remembrance. 


THE    END. 


HARPER'S  YOUNG  PEOPLE  SERIES. 


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Money. — Mildred's  Bargain,  etc. — Nan. — Rolf  House. — -Jo's 
Opportunity. —  The  Story  of  Music  and  Musicians. 

Janies  Otis. — Silent  Pete. —  Toby  Tyler. —  Tim  and  Tip. — Mr. 
Stubbs's  Brother. — Left  Behind. — Raising  the  "Pearl. " 

David  Ker. —  T/ie  Lost  City. — Lnto  Unknown  Seas. 

William  Black. —  T/ie  Fou>  Macnicols. 

Kirk  Munroe. — Chrystal,  Jack  tSr3   Co.,  and  Delta   Bixby. — 

Derrick  Sterling.  —  Wakulla.  —  The  Flamingo  Feather.  — Dorv- 

mates. 
John  Habberton. —  Who  was  Paul  Grayson? 
Ernest  Ingersoll.  —  The  Lee  Queen. 
W.  O.  Stoddard.—  The  Talking  Leaves.— Two  Arrows.  — The 

Red  Mustang. 
Mrs.  W.  J.  Hays.— Prince  Lazybones,  etc. 
G.  C.  Eggleston. — Strange  Stones  from  History. 
George  B.  Perry. —  Uncle  Peter's  Trust. 
Sophie  Swett. — Captain  Polly. 
W.  L.  Alden. — A  New  Robinson  Crusoe. —  The  Adventures  of 

Jimmy  Brown. —  The  Cruise  of  the  Canoe  Club. —  The   Cruise 

of  the  ' '  Ghost. " —  The  Moral  Pirates. 


HAEPEE'S  YOUNG  PEOPLE  (NEW)  SEEIES. 

Illustrated.    Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  25  per  Yoluine. 

A  Boy's  Town.  By  W  D  Howells.— Phil  and  the  Baby,  and 
False  Witness.  By  Lucy  C.  Lillie. —  Campmates. —  Canoe- 
mates,  By  Kirk  Munroe. — Flying  Hill  Farm.  By  So- 
phie Swett. — Diego  Pinzon.  By  John  R.  Coryell. — 
Young  Lucretia,  and  Other  Stones.  By  Mary  E.  Wilkius. 
The  Moon  Prince,  etc.     By  R.  K.  Munkittrick. 

Published  by  HAEPEE  &  BEOTHEES,  New  York. 

f&~Any  of  the  above  works  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part 
of  the  United  States,  Canada,  or  Mexico,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


By  THOMAS   W.  KNOX. 


THE   "BOY   TRAVELLERS"   SERIES. 

Adventures  of  Two  Youths — 

In  the  Far  East.     Five  Volumes  : 

In  Japan  and  China — In  Siam  and  Java — In 
Ceylon  and  India — In  Egypt  and  Palestine — 
In  Central  Africa. 

In  South  America.  In  Mexico. 

In  the  Russian  Empire.     In  Great  Britain  and 
On  the  Congo.  Ireland. 

In  Australasia.  In  Northern  Europe. 

In  Central  Europe. 

Copiously  Illustrated.  Square  8vo,  Cloth,  Or- 
namental, $3  oo  per  Volume,  volumes  sold 
separately. 


Hunting  Adventures  on  Land  and  Sea.  Two 
Volumes.  Copiously  Illustrated.  Square  8vo,  Cloth, 
Ornamental,  $250  each.  Each  volume  complete  in 
itself.     The  volumes  sold  separately. 

The  Young  Nimrods  in  North  America. 

The  Young  Nimrods  Around  the  World. 


Published  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  New  York. 

ny  of  the  above  works  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid, 
to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  Canada,  or  Mexico,  on  receipt 
of  the  price. 


By  CHARLES    CARLETON    COFFIN. 


These  are  not  books  for  boys  alone,  but  well-arranged  and  care- 
fully prepared  histories  of  war,  profusely  illustrated,  with  authen- 
tic sketches  of  battle-fields,  historic  places,  and  buildings. — 
Observer,  N.  Y. 

Mr.  Coffin  uses  abundance  of  incident ;  his  style  is  pictorial 
and  animated ;  he  takes  a  sound  view  of  the  inner  factors  of 
national  development  and  progress  ,  and  his  pages  are  plentifully 
sprinkled  with  illustrations. — Literary  World,  Boston 

The  Boys  of  '76.  A  History  of  the  Battles  of  the 
Revolution. 

The  Story  of  Liberty. 

Old  Times  in  the  Colonies, 

Building  the  Nation.  Events  in  the  History  of 
the  United  States  from  the  Revolution  to  the  Be- 
ginning of  the  War  between  the  States. 

A   HISTORY  OF   THE  REBELLION- 
Drum-beat  of  the  Nation, 

Marching  to  Victory. 
Redeeming  the  Republic. 

Freedom  Triumphant. 

Illustrated.      Square  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $3  00 
per  volume. 


Life  of  Abraham  Lincoln.    Illustrated.    Square  8vo, 
Cloth,  Ornamental,  $3  00. 


Published  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  New  York. 


ny  of  the  above  works  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid, 
to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  Canada,  or  Mexico,  on  receipt 
of  the  price. 


BY  HOWAKD   PYLE. 


THE  WONDER  CLOCK;  or,  Four  -  and  -  Twenty  Marvellous 
Tales  :  being  One  for  each  Hour  of  the  Day.  Written  and 
Illustrated  by  Howard  Pyle.  Embellished  with  Verses  by 
Katharine  Pyle.     Large  8vo,  Ornamental  Half  Leather,  $3  00. 

"The  Wonder  Clock"  is  truly  a  monument  to  the  genius  and 
industry  of  the  author  in  his  line  of  illustrated  tales,  and  also  to 
the  enterprise  of  the  publishers  in  producing  choice  children's 
books. — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

The  illustrations  fit  the  stories  perfectly,  and  are  as  fantastic  as 
the  warmest  lovers  of  tales  of  magic  can  desire.  The  artist  enters 
so  thoroughly  into  the  spirit  of  the  stories  that  his  wonderful  draw- 
ings have  an  air  of  reality  about  them.  Some  are  grotesque,  some 
exquisitely  graceful ;  all  are  so  spirited,  so  vigorous,  so  admirable 
in  design  and  in  the  expression  of  the  faces  and  figures,  and  so  full 
of  action,  that  it  is  hard  to  say  which  is  the  best. — Boston  Pod. 

THE  ROSE  OF  PARADISE.  Being  a  Detailed  Account  of  certain 
Adventures  that  happened  to  Captain  John  Mackra,  in  Connec- 
tion with  the  famous  Pirate,  Edward  England,  in  the  Year  1720, 
off  the  Island  of  Juanna,  in  the  Mozambique  Channel,  writ  by 
himself,  and  now  for  the  first  time  published.  By  Howard 
Pyle.  Illustrated  by  the  Author.  Post  8vo,  Ornamental  Cloth, 
$1  25. 

One  of  the  most  spirited  and  life-like  stories  of  sea  adventure 
that  we  ever  remember  to  have  read. — N.  Y.  Mail  and  Express. 

A  charming  story  with  an  Old  World  flavor  that  no  one  who 
picks  it  up  can  lay  down  until  it  is  finished. — St. Louis  Republican. 

PEPPER  AND  SALT  ;  or,  Seasoning  for  Young  Folk.  By  How- 
ard Pyle.  Superbly  illustrated  by  the  Author.  4to,  Ornamental 
Cloth,  $2  00. 

A  quaint  and  charming  book.  .  .  .  Mr.  Pyle's  wonderful  versa- 
tility is  shown  in  the  different  kinds  of  subjects  and  the  various  pe- 
riods he  treats,  in  every  gradation  of  humor,  mirth,  and  sly  satire, 
with  now  and  then  a  touch  of  fine  sadness. — Critic,  N.  Y. 

It  is  beyond  compare  the  quaintest  and  most  entertaining  book 
of  the  season.  It  is  unique  in  style,  and  as  unique  in  its  coutents, 
the  very  turning  over  of  its  leaves  being  enough  to  transport  one 
into  some  unheard-of  region  of  imagination. — Observer,  N.  Y. 


Published  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  New  York. 

£W~Any  of  the  above  icorks  sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of 
the  United  States,  Canada,  or  Mexico,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
592 


